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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24201442">love is the best thing we do</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/animmortalist/pseuds/animmortalist'>animmortalist</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The 100 (TV), The 100 Series - Kass Morgan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff, Gen, Hijinks &amp; Shenanigans, Inspired by How I Met Your Mother, Kids, Love Confessions, Mutual Pining, with an entirely different ending!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 15:00:14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>33,442</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24201442</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/animmortalist/pseuds/animmortalist</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>When Bellamy forces him to play a round of "haaaave you met Murphy?" he meets Clarke Griffin. That same night, Murphy's best friend Monty gets engaged to Harper. What happens over the course of the following years is more than any of them could have ever imagined. But there's one thing that's for certain. There's only one thing out there worth making an ass of yourself for, and that's love.</p><p>
  <b>*on hiatus*</b>
</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin, Clarke Griffin/John Murphy, Monty Green/Harper McIntyre, a lot and I mean a lot of others will appear, but these are the main ones - Relationship</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>91</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>58</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Smurf Dick</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>hello lovelies!! this fic was previously published and then taken down, but I've decided to come back to it (and fic writing in general) because it just wouldn't leave me alone. this first chapter has been edited slightly but is fundamentally the same. the next one is brand new though! </p><p>this is my how I met your mother au that's been in my head for months now. I'm really excited to be posting it again and look forward to sharing it with you. </p><p>I don't know if I'll be revealing how exactly, but I will say that my ending is entirely different from the ending of the show. if this is really something that deters readers, it's something I'm open to maybe dm'ing or something, but for now, I'll just say this story will not follow the show exactly and will have important changes along the way as well. as always, feedback is so appreciated.</p><p>thank you so much and hope you enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When Murphy first saw Clarke Griffin, it was across the room at <em> Roma’s</em>. She was stunning. Her blonde curls a wild halo. Her top showed off all the right curves, and her boots were big enough to stomp his heart into dust. Doubled over, almost, laughing at something her friend was saying. Really, she was perfect. </p><p> </p><p>So, he did what any normal, well-adjusted mid-twenty-something would do, he turned to his friend Bellamy and said, “I’m gonna marry that girl.”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy, being, well, Bellamy, sipped at his scotch and replied, “Oh yeah, you know she likes it dirty.”</p><p> </p><p>He may have been a dedicated friend, even an overly one, but he did not often understand Murphy’s belief in love. He was more of the type to lie to a girl, sleep with her, and then never call again. </p><p> </p><p>“Go up and talk to her,” Bellamy told him, to which he scoffed.</p><p> </p><p>“I can’t just go up and <em> talk to her</em>.”</p><p> </p><p>“Right, because that would be insane,” his tone dry. </p><p> </p><p>Just then, she came over to get another drink at the bar, her back turned to them. Then Bellamy got this glint in his eye and Murphy started to shake his head. </p><p> </p><p>“Please, don’t. I don’t wanna play. Don’t do it, Bellamy.”</p><p> </p><p>But before he could move to stop him, his suited friend tapped the girl on the shoulder and said, way too enthusiastically, “haaaaave you met Murphy?” He pointed at him and then sauntered away to hit on the owner/bartender, Roma. </p><p> </p><p>Clarke looked at him, confused but not quite as freaked out as he’d expected. </p><p> </p><p>“I take it you’re Murphy?”</p><p> </p><p>He nodded. “Guilty. Might as well handcuff me right now.” Realizing his mistake, he quickly added, “Not that I’ve ever been arrested, well...” he trailed off because that wasn’t quite true. “I’ve never been convicted of a crime.” God, she was going to think he was a serial killer. </p><p> </p><p>She laughed though, and he felt himself smirk. </p><p> </p><p>“Glad to hear it.” And then, “Sorry, I don’t mean to be a bitch, but I’m out with some friends and one of them just got dumped. So, really, anyone that isn’t one of us is fair game to ax murder<em>. </em>”</p><p> </p><p>“Gotcha,” he said, glancing over and spotting an intimidating group of men and women sporting a lot of eyeliner and even a neck tattoo or two. Before he could psych himself out, he added, “I know this is so not how we’re supposed to do this, but would you wanna grab dinner next week?”</p><p> </p><p>“Who says I care how we’re <em> supposed </em>to do this?” She grinned. </p><p> </p><p>Fuck, <em> this girl.  </em></p><p> </p><p>“I’ll make you deal,” she went on, “we can grab dinner tomorrow night—I have to set up an art installation for a woman that eats bird food next weekend in Maine—<em>if</em> you let me throw a drink in your face so I don’t get shit from my friends.”</p><p> </p><p>He wished he had the dignity to say that he thought about it before replying, “absolutely,” but he knew he didn’t. </p><p> </p><p>Without warning, she picked up his drink (a half-consumed vodka soda Bellamy had insisted he order because beer was not “suited-up material” even though he wasn’t even wearing a suit) and flung it in his face.</p><p> </p><p>“Fuck,” she whispered, “that was as fun as it looks." Then she shouted, “Asshole!” </p><p> </p><p>He watched as she marched back over to her friends, one of whom gave her a high-five. </p><p> </p><p>“Oof, guess who just got de—wait for it—nied, denied!” Bellamy came over and patted him on the shoulder, “But are we really surprised?”</p><p> </p><p>“Surprise yourself with this!” he shot back, showing off Clarke’s card she’d slipped him before the drink throwing. </p><p> </p><p>The other shook his head. “There’s just no accounting for taste anymore, is there?”</p><p> </p><p>But the only reason he met Clarke that night was because of his best friend Monty. They had a good thing going with him, Monty, and Monty’s girlfriend since college, Harper, they lived together and had been close since their first day of school. Really, Murphy hadn’t even thought of marriage until Monty. Because like an asshole, his best friend was proposing. </p>
<hr/><p>Monty was a nervous wreck. He was cooking. Cooking! A meal! So that he could ask Harper to marry him in a romantic fashion. But he couldn’t keep it together. Not at all. </p><p> </p><p>He also realized he didn’t know how to cook. Like, he understood the vague idea of it, but the execution? God, he should’ve gotten Murphy to do it for him. But Bellamy had found out what he was doing and insisted on both of them getting laid with random women since Monty was “making the worst mistake any man could”. </p><p> </p><p>He’d done his best to not roll his eyes when Bellamy actually wiped away a tear and exclaimed, “Another good man lost. Shame,” before heading out. He didn’t know why Murphy insisted on hanging out with him. </p><p> </p><p>“You would not believe what happened to me today!” Harper shouted as she stormed into the apartment.</p><p> </p><p>Monty had just tasted his soup that seemed to be more of a stew. A stewp, if you will. God, he was hopeless. It didn’t taste awful, so he took that as a win. </p><p> </p><p>He noticed the box with the ring in it sitting out just before she turned around, and shoved it into his pocket before she could see. </p><p> </p><p>“Yeah?” he asked. “Hit me.”</p><p> </p><p>“You know my boss at school?”</p><p> </p><p>“Asshole,” Monty muttered. </p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, well, today he said I was being <em> too good </em>of a science teacher.”</p><p> </p><p>He frowned. “How is that even possible?”</p><p> </p><p>She waved her arms. “Exactly! Thank you!” And then her eyes went wide as she took in the small kitchen behind him. “<em>Monty </em>.”</p><p> </p><p>He flushed, sheepish, and said, “Oh, it’s nothing. I just figured we’d have a nice dinner and then there’s something I actually want to—”</p><p> </p><p>“No, Monty. Fire!” Harper cut in.</p><p> </p><p>He turned around, and indeed, where his mediocre stewp had been cooking, there was now a small fire, steadily growing larger. </p><p> </p><p>“Shit,” he gasped out. “Okay, okay,” he took a breath. “Remain calm! We need to um...We need to—”</p><p> </p><p>But he was stopped by Harper, who had gotten a fire extinguisher out from under the sink and aimed it at the fire, effectively dousing it. Maybe even overdoing it, a little, actually. </p><p> </p><p>She brushed a piece of hair out of her face and said, “Jesus, Monty! You’re lucky I’m valiant or we would’ve definitely burned the whole building down. You know what Diyoza said about the burn time of this place!" She held up two fingers. "Two minutes!” </p><p> </p><p>She continued to rant, waving her arms around, lecturing him about fire safety and how she and Murphy had designed a plan for a fire <em> for cases like these. </em>And didn’t he know better? And what if she hadn’t been home? Monty was hit, not for the first time, by how much he truly was in love with her. </p><p> </p><p>So, he got down on one knee, and asked, “Will you marry me?”</p><p> </p><p>Her eyes went wide, her smile brilliant, and she got out, “If this is your way of getting out of trouble then you don’t know me well at all.”</p><p> </p><p>“Harper McIntyre,” he started and she squealed a little, “I have loved you since you knocked on my dorm room door in college, and I only love you more now. Will you do me the biggest honor of my life by marrying me?”</p><p> </p><p>She didn’t say anything, but she did hoist him up off his knees and kiss him senseless, so he figured his chances were pretty good.</p><p> </p><p>“So?” he asked when they broke apart. </p><p> </p><p>“Of course, I will. Yes yes yes.” She was laughing. “I won’t hate you if you don’t have a ring, but…”</p><p> </p><p>“Shit,” he let out and she laughed even harder. </p><p> </p><p>When he produced the ring, she slid it on and told him, “Not too bad.”</p><p> </p><p>He gave her an unimpressed look, a frown on his lips. She shook her head and she kissed it off him. </p><p> </p><p>“Now,” she said, “can we <em> please </em>talk about our fire plan again because apparently, you weren’t listening to us the first time Murphy and I explained it.”</p><p> </p><p>He had never smiled so wide in his entire life. </p>
<hr/><p>Clarke Griffin was about the most unfunny funny person Murphy had ever met. Her jokes were <em>bad, </em>embarrassingly so, and most of them pretty damn dark, but he found himself laughing at them regardless. </p><p> </p><p>“That is quite the impressive decor,” he said, nodding to the Blue French Horn that sat on the wall across from them. </p><p> </p><p>“God, Brooklyn hipster shit,” she replied. </p><p> </p><p>“Agreed. I mean, what? Did the painting die?”</p><p> </p><p>“I know,” she agreed. “It’s like ‘I’m sorry photography, but you’re just not cool enough for us.’”</p><p> </p><p>He considered it for a moment before getting out, “Kind of looks like—”</p><p> </p><p>“A smurf dick,” she finished. </p><p> </p><p>He laughed, delighted and she smirked. Murphy had imagined his date going a lot of different ways, but he hadn’t imagined the words “smurf dick” being the highlight.</p><p> </p><p>He raised his whiskey. “To first dates and smurf dicks.” </p><p> </p><p>She grinned and clinked her glass against his own. “At least it’s sizable.”</p><p> </p><p>It was then that Murphy knew it, he was fucked.</p><p> </p><p>The date was going great, amazing, even, if he was feeling like naming it for what it truly was. Of course, that cosmically meant things <em> had </em>to go to shit. And that they did. </p><p> </p><p>He was walking her home, half of him wanting to shove her against the nearest building and lay one on her, but he restrained. He was trying to be a gentleman, alright? Besides, that seemed like something Bellamy would do, and not with a woman he thought he could marry one day. No, if he was serious about Clarke, he had to show it to her. This was part of growing up, as much as it sucked. </p><p> </p><p>As they got to her door, he felt there was a decent moment there. And just as he was about to lean in to kiss her, her phone rang.</p><p> </p><p>“Shit, sorry, it’s work,” she explained before answering it. She turned away to speak to whoever was on the phone and he shifted on his feet. “I’m so sorry,” she said when she hung up. “I would invite you up,” at that, his eyes went a little wide, he had to say, “but there’s been an insane emergency at work. This artist we’re spotlighting is having a breakdown or something and I have to go.”</p><p> </p><p>She paused for a second. As if she was waiting for him to do something. For a moment, he thought she might’ve been giving him The Signal to make a move, but he dismissed it.</p><p> </p><p>“No problem,” he told her, “I’ll call you, okay?”</p><p> </p><p>She frowned for a moment but quickly erased it. “Sure. See you around, Murphy.” Her tone was strangely cold, considering how well the night had been going. </p><p> </p><p>Then she rushed off in the opposite direction of his metro stop. It wasn’t until he was halfway home that he realized his mistake.</p>
<hr/><p>Bellamy took it upon himself to help the less fortunate as much as he could. This usually included Murphy or hot girls that wanted to get over their boyfriends. He was more invested in Murphy though, he was more worrisome, after all. Especially considering how badly he’d fucked it up with the hot girl from the bar. </p><p> </p><p>“You said,” Harper cleared her throat and then took a sip from her cider. “You said, ‘I’ll call you’?”</p><p> </p><p>Murphy put his head in his hands and let out a muffled, “Yes.”</p><p> </p><p>“Bro,” Bellamy said solemnly, “you should’ve killed her cat instead.”</p><p> </p><p>“I know that,” Murphy snapped looking up.</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t think this is as hopeless as we’re making it out to be,” Monty argued. “I mean, it’s just a simple phrase. People use it all the time.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah,” Harper cut in. “People like Bellamy.”</p><p> </p><p>Monty glanced at him and he nodded. She was right. </p><p> </p><p>“And I don’t ever mean it,” he added. “Like, my ‘I’ll call you’ might as well be a promise for me to never see them again. It’s a polite way of saying, ‘thanks for playing, let’s not do it again sometime’.” </p><p> </p><p>“I’m fucked,” Murphy got out. “I met the most amazing girl in the city and I’m never gonna see her again.”</p><p> </p><p>“Speaking of,” Bellamy looked to him. “Why, in this whole disaster of a situation, did you not kiss her?”</p><p> </p><p>“I didn’t get The Signal,” he defended, settling into the booth more as if he hoped it would engulf him. </p><p> </p><p>If he were in a suit, it would’ve definitely gotten all wrinkled. He really needed to teach Murphy the merits of posture. Bellamy then narrowed his eyes, there were more pressing matters. Like the fact that his best friend had just said the biggest bullshit he had ever heard in his entire life. </p><p> </p><p>“The Signal?” he repeated, just to be clear. </p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, you know,” Murphy went on. “Like, when a girl wants her to kiss you, she’ll give you The Signal.”</p><p> </p><p>“If a girl wants you to kiss her, you’ll know,” Harper said. </p><p> </p><p>“Yeah,” Murphy gestured with his beer, “because she will <em> signal </em>it.”</p><p> </p><p>“I didn’t say that,” Harper responded. </p><p> </p><p>Bellamy got in, “See? Not even Harper, a real-life woman, agrees with you.”</p><p> </p><p>“Gee, thanks. Love being reduced to that,” she said and he shrugged. </p><p> </p><p>Monty opened his mouth but closed it just as quickly. </p><p> </p><p>“Wow,” Bellamy deadpanned. “You know it’s bad when not even Monty can defend you.”</p><p> </p><p>“You need it though, you guys,” Murphy was still saying, though clearly trying to convince himself more than anyone else. </p><p> </p><p>“You know what—” Bellamy started, and then he turned beside him, yanked Monty towards him, and kissed him once before releasing him. </p><p> </p><p>“What the—” Murphy started.</p><p> </p><p>“Monty did not give me ‘The Signal,’ did he?” he demanded.</p><p> </p><p>“Not. At. All. Harper, I promise,” Monty pleaded. </p><p> </p><p>But Bellamy knew he wasn’t in trouble because Harper had that vague look of amusement on her face when he did something she thought was funny but didn’t want him to know she did. </p><p> </p><p>“But, now I know that Monty and I are not gonna get married, okay?” He took a sip of his scotch. “Even more so, I know that <em> I </em>do not want to marry Monty, so there is no reason to sabotage his and Harper’s engagement.”</p><p> </p><p>“We’re overjoyed,” Harper said, dry. </p><p> </p><p>He gave her a wink. </p><p> </p><p>“Most importantly, I did not wait around for some mythical signal to find this out. I just fucking did it.”</p><p> </p><p>Murphy considered this for a moment. He swallowed. “Holy crap. Bellamy’s right. I know what I gotta do.”</p><p> </p><p>“Ha,” he said triumphantly. “That’s right: find someone even hotter and bang her!”</p><p> </p><p>“What?” Murphy asked. “No. I’m gonna go to her and kiss her.”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy had never been in more awe or more terrified of his friend until that moment. On one hand, he seemed intent on actually <em> doing </em>something for once. On the other, it was probably bound to blow up in his face. </p><p> </p><p>“But like you said she’s leaving for a work thing tomorrow morning and—” Monty protested. </p><p> </p><p>But Murphy was already shaking his head and had this grin on his face and Bellamy knew it was hopeless. Whatever he had planned, he was going to do it. He stood up, drained his beer, and slammed it down. </p><p> </p><p>“To the Uber!”</p><p> </p><p>Harper pulled out her phone and winced. “But there’s a surge-charge…”</p><p> </p><p>“To the subway!” he exclaimed. </p><p> </p><p>“Subway to Brooklyn?” Bellamy asked. “You’ll get there next week if you’re lucky.”</p><p> </p><p>Murphy frowned and then said, “To the Uber! Surge-charges be damned!”</p><p> </p><p>“Okay, but you’re paying right?” Monty asked.</p><p> </p><p>He sighed. “Yeah, yeah I am.”</p><p> </p><p>“Then to the Uber!” Monty cheered. </p><p> </p><p>Their Uber driver was a kid named Jasper that couldn’t have been older than the rest of them. He had a lot of knick-knacks on the dash and his old car smelled like sage and incense. </p><p> </p><p>“Hello fellow travelers, can I interest you in some tunes for our journey?”</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll tip you extra if you don’t talk during the whole drive,” Murphy said, and Bellamy nodded in support.</p><p> </p><p>Jasper shrugged. “Fair enough.” </p><p> </p><p>Just as they were driving though Murphy commanded they stop. He rushed inside a restaurant and came out, being tailed by a bunch of waiters and a girl in a hostess dress. He was clutching...Bellamy squinted to make sure he got it right. Nope, it was definitely a Blue French Horn.</p><p> </p><p>“Drive Jasper drive!” Murphy shouted as he toppled into the car. “What?” he asked Bellamy, who knew he was looking at his friend as if he had just lost it. “She’ll like it, okay?”</p><p> </p><p>When they arrived at Clarke’s building, everyone took a turn hyping Murphy up. He went last. Placing a hand on the other’s shoulder, he said, “You know what you gotta do.”</p><p> </p><p>Murphy replied, “I do.”</p><p> </p><p>“Bang her against her windows until she can’t walk anymore.”</p><p><br/>
“Bellamy, fucking hell,” Monty muttered.</p><p> </p><p>“Seriously?” Harper asked. </p><p> </p><p>“I’m gonna go with something else,” Murphy told him. </p><p> </p><p>He shrugged. “Your loss.”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy fought Monty for the view out the window and won. He wouldn’t stop whining but he had only involved only some light pinching, really, the baby. </p><p> </p><p>Murphy rang the buzzer for her place and Bellamy saw as Clarke looked outside of her window. She was hot, way out of Murphy’s league, really. But he’d already known that he told himself. Then Murphy thrust up the Blue French Horn and she grinned. That’s when the thought hit him. It wasn’t even a wholly formed one, something he promised himself he’d forget as soon as he got laid again, but it was there. Clarke’s smile? Pretty goddamn amazing. </p>
<hr/><p>When Clarke had looked out her window and saw Murphy with the Blue French Horn, she hadn’t hesitated to invite him up. Now they were in her apartment, listening to an old song she’d heard a million years ago when she was young and her dad was alive. They were slow dancing a little, which she thought was kind of corny, but she’d been half-way through a pity bottle of wine when he’d arrived and couldn’t say she was all that bothered. </p><p> </p><p>“So, I think I messed up big time,” Murphy admitted.</p><p> </p><p>She smirked. “You think?”</p><p> </p><p>“When I said, ‘I’ll call you,’ here’s the thing...I really did mean it.”</p><p> </p><p>She thought this over. He could’ve just been playing her, trying to sleep with her, and then disappear. Not that she even minded when that happened. It was what she’d been planning to do with him, actually. But that was before he stole a colorful musical instrument for her. It had been so long since someone had done something like that for her...She couldn't even remember the last time, actually. And he really did seem like he was the kind of person that would own up to his dickishness. </p><p> </p><p>“Really?” she asked, just to toy with him a bit. </p><p> </p><p>“Really,” he replied, no hesitation.</p><p> </p><p>“Then I think I like that you told me you’d call me,” she said. “Even if at first it made me think you were an ass.”</p><p> </p><p>He laughed a little. “I think I like the fact that you’re not afraid to call me an ass to my face.”</p><p> </p><p>“Good.” And then, “I think...I like my new Blue French Horn.”</p><p> </p><p>“I think I like your eyes.”</p><p> </p><p>She swayed a little bit to the music and told herself it was only because of the wine, nothing else. </p><p> </p><p>“I think I like your—”</p><p> </p><p>But before she got out what she wanted to say, he told her, “I think I’m in love with you.”</p><p> </p><p>“<em>What</em>?” she finally managed after a long pause, still gaping at him. </p><p> </p><p>He looked a little horrified and for a moment she wondered if <em> he </em>wasn’t drunk. Then he seemed as if he was going to be sick. Which she really didn’t want to deal with. Hell, she wasn’t the type to deal with this kind of thing at all. Not that she had much experience with first dates telling her they were in love with her. </p><p> </p><p>“Please tell me you said that because it sounded good,” she said. “Or, you wanna get laid <em> really </em>badly.”</p><p> </p><p>He gaped. “I...No.” </p><p> </p><p>Well, at least he was honest.</p><p> </p><p>“Are you crazy?” she asked.</p><p> </p><p>“Yes,” he replied immediately. “I mean, I must be because I can’t help but think I’m in love with you…” Her eyes went wide. “Oh my god, I just said it again, shit.”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s okay,” she said, but really, it wasn’t. “But, um, I think that…”</p><p> </p><p>“Right. I should go,” he said and she nodded.</p><p> </p><p>As they were at her door to her building though, she felt like she didn’t want to let him go. It was insane, she knew it was. He might’ve been insane, actually. In fact, this was just the kind of story her friends would eat up. They’d also probably tell her to take out a restraining order, just to be safe. There was something about Murphy that made her not nearly as appalled as she originally felt. </p><p> </p><p>“It was nice meeting you,” she supplied since there was really nothing else she could say. </p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, and I am sorry, really,” he responded and then turned to walk down the street towards the subway. </p><p> </p><p>It was cold, and she should’ve gone back into her building, but instead, she watched him as he walked away, unable to get herself to move. And then he paused. </p><p> </p><p>“You know what?” He came back over to her door. “I wish I was sorry, really, I do. But all of this insanity...It’s on-brand for me. And maybe that should be a sign that I should just quit and let it go and accept that I need to change some fundamental things about myself. But I also know that me being the way I am...It led me to meet you, one way or another. So, fuck it and fuck regret. I’m not sorry. There.”</p><p> </p><p>She was stunned and didn’t know what to say. Then he added, “So, now I will leave you be, but just know this is me, not being sorry.”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke had no idea what possessed her to do it, what made her think this was in any way an acceptable or good thing to do, but she figured it didn’t really matter since he might’ve been completely drunk or just plain crazy. </p><p> </p><p>“Wait,” she said, and he turned to her. “I...Look, I’m gonna be honest: there isn’t much hope for you and me. It’s—”</p><p> </p><p>“I get it, believe me.” He didn’t sound annoying or anything. Just accepting. </p><p> </p><p>“And I wasn’t even looking to get something serious when I met you. I’m still not, really. Which makes what I’m about to propose kind of weird but…” she trailed off and stuck out her hand.</p><p> </p><p>He stared at it for a moment before he looked back up at her.</p><p> </p><p>“Friends?” she asked. “I’ve recently realized a lot of mine suck and...I don’t know. Maybe I’m out of my mind, too, but I think we’d be good friends, Murphy. So,” she let out a breath, “what do you say?”</p><p> </p><p>He barely hesitated before he took her hand and shook it. “Friends sounds pretty damn good to me.”</p>
<hr/><p>And that was how Murphy met Clarke Griffin. As for his wife and mother of his future children? Well, that would have to wait a bit. More than a bit. More like a really, really fucking long time. God help him. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>thank you so much for reading ❤︎</p><p>a million thank yous to syd and shae, without whom I would not be writing fic again and especially not this story. you guys are amazing and the most real ones. </p><p>find me on tumblr (@animmortalist)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. New Bros</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>okay, here we are at the second chapter! this one was so fun to write, mostly because of the bellamy and clarke scenes, but I hope you enjoy the whole chapter!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Against all of the odds stacked against them, Clarke found that she actually liked being friends with Murphy. It didn’t hurt that his friends were pretty great, too. Even Bellamy, who was unfairly hot but also completely off-limits. When things did get awkward if it was just her and Murphy hanging out, he didn’t hesitate to call it out and make fun of it. Mostly himself. If she was being honest with herself, it was probably the reason why their friendship developed so well over the next couple of months. </p><p> </p><p>She found out that she much preferred Monty’s kindness and Harper’s eccentrics, and yes, even Bellamy’s outrageous plans to pick up women to her other friends. Murphy had a dry sense of humor that matched hers, and while he was critical of Bellamy, she could tell their friendship was important to him. Important enough that as much as she recognized Bellamy’s attractiveness, she knew it’d be bad news to try anything with him. </p><p> </p><p>They were hanging out at <em> Roma’s </em>when Bellamy and Murphy came in, Bellamy trailing after him, hands clasped, mid-pleading. </p><p> </p><p>“Please, please, please,” he begged. </p><p> </p><p>“No,” Murphy replied. “Not a chance in hell.”</p><p> </p><p>"I will do anything," Bellamy went on.</p><p> </p><p>"No, you won't," Murphy argued. "And I already told you last month that I couldn't this week."</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy sunk into the booth beside Clarke. He pointed his finger at Murphy, becoming more impassioned as he went on. “You are a fun killer. A destroyer of all that is good in the world. I will never forgive you for this.”</p><p> </p><p>“What if I buy the first round?” Murphy asked.</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy shrugged. “Yeah, that works.” </p><p> </p><p>Though when Murphy got up, she did notice how Bellamy deflated a bit. Whatever it was that he’d been begging Murphy to do, it actually seemed important to him. She was sort of frightened what that might’ve been. Considering the fact that it was him, she wasn’t sure she even wanted to try to guess. </p><p> </p><p>When Murphy delivered their beers, Clarke’s curiosity got the best of her, and she bit. “What made Murphy the destroyer of all that is good in the world, exactly?”</p><p> </p><p>Murphy groaned. “Don’t get him started, I only managed to get him to stop by using my limited funds to purchase the quickly insanely priced drinks in this city.”</p><p> </p><p>Harper patted him on the shoulder. “You’ll get promoted from Line Cook one day.”</p><p> </p><p>Monty nodded. “Yeah, I mean, Wick’s gotta die one of these days. Maybe not for another fifty years, but you’ll get there.”</p><p> </p><p>“Thanks for the support,” Murphy shot back. </p><p> </p><p>Monty grinned. “Always.”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy cleared his throat and Murphy sank his head onto the table. Harper wrinkled her nose. After all, it was a bit of a dive bar. Who knew when that table had last been cleaned. </p><p> </p><p>“I will tell you, Clarke, so that you can understand my true suffering, and the failure of Murphy as not just a person, but something even worse.”</p><p> </p><p>“And what is that?” Monty asked, a brow raised.</p><p> </p><p>“A bro,” Bellamy said as Murphy snorted into his beer. </p><p> </p><p>“How does one fail at being a bro?” Clarke asked, half afraid of the answer. </p><p> </p><p>If she’d learned anything about Bellamy in the time she’d known him, it was that he had four loves: sex, scotch, suits, and The Bro Code. At first, she’d thought it was a little elaborate, and kind of weird, but the more he quoted The Bro Code at her, the more she took it seriously. Clarke wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not. She liked to think it was, if only because she was kind of competitive and wanted to be considered a good bro. Whatever that might’ve entailed. Plus, Bellamy really did know how to have a good time, when it came down to it. </p><p> </p><p>Bellamy sighed and sipped at his beer. “Murphy has failed me many, many times. First, with the lack of suiting up, which is just insulting at this point. But this? This is the worst.” Murphy rolled his eyes while Monty and Harper exchanged a look. Clarke did her best not to laugh. “He has decided to bail on a sacred night.”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy choked up and took a moment, which she thought was more for dramatic effect than anything else. Though when she looked closer, she swore there were tears in the corner of his eyes. “A Bro Night Out." He blew out a breath and gestured to Murphy. "And all because his stupid cousin is getting married.”</p><p> </p><p>“He’s my closest cousin who I don’t actually hate,” Murphy explained. “And his soon-to-be husband is rich as fuck, so you know the food’s gonna be good.”</p><p> </p><p>Harper asked, “What even is a Bro Night Out? Is that code for something?”</p><p> </p><p>Monty jumped in. “Does it involve romantic candles and a dinner reservation for two?”</p><p> </p><p>“Ooh, I know!” Harper grinned. “It’s complete with a bubble bath and champagne and strawberries.”</p><p> </p><p>“Haha,” Bellamy deadpanned. He waved a hand and turned back to Clarke. “Sonny and Cher over here don’t know the first thing about Bro Night Out. In fact,” he turned back to them, “they wouldn’t even know how to handle it.”</p><p> </p><p>“You still haven’t corrected us,” Monty said, smug. </p><p> </p><p>Bellamy narrowed his eyes. "I know the code for <em>other things</em> though, not just the bro kind."</p><p> </p><p>Monty paled and Harper glared at him. </p><p> </p><p>Clarke cut in before the three of them could start to bicker and completely derail the conversation. “So, then what happens on a Bro Night Out?”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy smirked. “I’m glad you asked.”</p><p> </p><p>“You’ve doomed me now,” Murphy muttered.</p><p> </p><p>Clarke shot him an amused look before Bellamy launched into his speech. </p><p> </p><p>“A Bro Night Out is the most awesome event in the world. It is the single most important night in any bros life. It eclipses all others.”</p><p> </p><p>“Still not getting what actually happens…” Clarke trailed off.</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “A Bro Night Out has a specific structure in order to ensure the utmost awesomeness and exceed that of any just regular night. It goes as follows: a rousing game of Laser Tag in which we show that middle schooler Benny Stevens how pathetic he is, followed by a steak and lobster dinner, followed by cigars and scotch. Plus, you know, a strip club here and there.”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke looked at Murphy. “And you’d rather go to a wedding?”</p><p> </p><p>Murphy frowned. “Wait...You don’t actually want to do those things, do you?”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke shrugged. “What? It sounds like fun. Gives me an excuse to smoke a cigar, which honestly, it’s been too long.”</p><p> </p><p>“You don’t actually smoke cigars, do you? It’s horrible for you.” Monty’s voice was full of concern, eyes wide. </p><p> </p><p>“Of course I do,” she said. “I mean, what do you think Wells’ dad gets me every year for my birthday?”</p><p> </p><p>“A normal present?” Harper guessed.</p><p> </p><p>Clarke shook her head. “You guys really don’t know how to live.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’ve been saying that for years!” Bellamy exclaimed, seemingly delighted by her response. “In your faces!” he told the rest of them before turning back to Clarke. “Clarke Griffin, I would like to extend the greatest offer you have ever received.”</p><p> </p><p>“Here we go,” Murphy breathed out.</p><p> </p><p>Monty shook his head and handed Harper a five-dollar-bill. Clarke narrowed her eyes at them for a moment. Who the hell knew what that was about. She wanted to ask, but then Bellamy captured her attention once more. </p><p> </p><p>“I would like to cordially invite you to a Bro Night Out,” he finished. </p><p> </p><p>There was so much hope in his eyes, it struck her. She’d seen Bellamy want things before, but it was rare that he asked for them. As much as his ‘invitation’ didn’t have a ‘please’ attached, she could tell this mattered. Besides, she figured it was a crucial step in solidifying their friendship. Out of all of Murphy’s friends, Bellamy seemed the most hesitant around her. She wanted to show him he could trust her as a friend. Plus, she really, really wanted to prove just how good of a bro she could be. If only to rub it in Murphy’s face a little. </p><p> </p><p>“You know what?” She grinned. “I accept.”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s what I’m talking about!” Bellamy said and raised his fist to bump. She entertained him and bumped her own against his. “In your face Murphy, guess who just found a new bro.”</p><p> </p><p>Murphy rolled his eyes. “Oh, how will I ever recover?”</p><p> </p><p>Monty nodded. “This will be a trying time, I’m sure, but I think with enough time and support, Murphy will be able to get through it.”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke snorted. “You’re just jealous you have to go to a wedding instead of being awesome.”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy snapped his fingers. “Exactly. You know, I didn’t think you had it in you, Clarke, but I think this is gonna be legend—wait for it—dary!”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke couldn’t help it, she laughed and clinked her beer against Bellamy’s. </p>
<hr/><p>It turned out Clarke and Bellamy were right. Weddings sucked ass when you were in your twenties and single, no matter who was getting hitched. It turned out his cousin’s husband’s family were all uppity WASPs who didn’t care for Murphy’s family at all. Not that there were much of them, really. A smattering of aunts and uncles and distantly related cousins. Thankfully, his mom had chosen not to come. That would’ve really been a shit show. </p><p> </p><p>Out of options in trying to hide from the cheesy music (they were actually doing the electric slide as if in an effort to personally offend him) he retreated into the kitchen. He took a long sip of his beer and thought maybe he should’ve taken Bellamy up on his Bro Night Out after all. </p><p> </p><p>As he explored the kitchen, he found a tray of macaroons. Granted, they had his cousin and his husband’s face painted on them, but he was a sucker for macaroons. </p><p> </p><p>“Hey!” said a raspy voice. “The fuck do you think you’re doing?”<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>He turned and saw a tall chick with long wavey hair and tons of eyeliner. She was hot, first off, but also had a murderous look in her eye that made him pale. Around a mouth full of macaroon he got out before swallowing, “Um...Nothing.” He was a genius, truly. </p><p> </p><p>“You dumbass. Those are supposed to go out in,” she checked her decked out tech watch, “now. Fuck. Where are my servers?”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m guessing you’re the caterer?” he asked.</p><p> </p><p>She nodded. “Unfortunately. When I first signed up, the happy couple seemed so <em> normal. </em>But then this,” she gestured to the tray of macaroons with the faces of the grooms of them, “happened. Not to mention that I have to find someone rooting around in my carefully prepared food.”</p><p> </p><p>Murphy stuck his hands in his pockets and did his best to look more sheepish and ashamed than he felt. </p><p> </p><p>“Don’t even try it,” the woman said, her voice flat. </p><p> </p><p>Murphy sighed. “Worth a shot.”</p><p> </p><p>She raised a brow. “Oh, so that’s worked before?”</p><p> </p><p>“Well—”</p><p> </p><p>She smirked. “That’s what I thought.” </p><p> </p><p>He stuck out his hand. “Murphy.”</p><p> </p><p>She stared at his hand as if it was a foot attached to his arm and also as if it was the last thing she’d ever want to touch. He retracted it, feeling just the slightest bit embarrassed. </p><p> </p><p>“Right,” he said, mostly to himself. “I don’t wanna annoy you more than I have, so…”</p><p> </p><p>“Wait,” she spoke up. He paused. She rolled her eyes. “I’m Anya.” </p><p> </p><p>He grinned and inclined his head. “Well, Anya, I gotta say I’m sort of jealous you’re stuck back here. I mean, have you seen out there? There are swans, I mean, real live ones.”</p><p> </p><p>Anya nodded. “Hell, I know. I had to take my poultry dishes off the menu because one of the grooms said, and I quote, ‘that it would be insulting to the swans’.” She shook her head. “They’re birds. I doubt they possess that kind of cognitive skill.”</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t know,” Murphy said. “I think Hitchcock would argue differently.”</p><p> </p><p>Anya seemed to allow this. “True, but really, wasn’t it all Tippi’s fault?”<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>Murphy thought for a moment before replying, “You might have a point, but I say some of the blame’s still gotta be on the birds themselves. I mean, they did eat people.” He feigned a shudder and she smiled a bit. Despite her terrifying look that she’d first given him, she had a nice smile, he had to admit. </p><p> </p><p>“Fine.” She nodded. “They can split it. Fifty-fifty.” </p><p> </p><p>“I suppose that’s alright by me, as long as you let me eat some more macaroons.”</p><p> </p><p>She gave him an unimpressed stare and he worried that she might lose her patience with him faster than he thought possible. While she wasn’t the most charming person he’d ever met, she definitely beat all the assholes outside the kitchen. Besides, anyone that liked Hitchcock had to be at least okay in his opinion. </p><p> </p><p>After a moment though, she sighed. “Hell, what do I care? Go for it. Stuff your face with them. It’s not like any of my freaking servers are here to send them out, and I refuse to stoop to going back to that work.”</p><p> </p><p>“Everyone else is missing out,” he told her after eating another of the desserts. “Seriously. These things may look creepy, but they’re delicious.”</p><p> </p><p>Anya retorted, “You don’t have to compliment me to make me feel better.”</p><p> </p><p>Murphy raised his hands. “Wasn’t in the slightest. Not really in my nature. In fact, usually, it’s the opposite.”</p><p> </p><p>“Really?” she asked, her voice revealing a bit of intrigue that hadn’t been there before. “I would’ve taken you for the type.”</p><p> </p><p>He frowned. “And what kind of type did you take me for?”</p><p> </p><p>She shrugged. “I guess I was still debating between lame and trying to get into my pants through my food.”</p><p> </p><p>Murphy snorted. “Are you serious?”</p><p> </p><p>“Well,” she said. “It is a wedding, after all. I’ve done hundreds of these things, and they wouldn’t be complete without someone hitting on me to epic failure.”</p><p> </p><p>He pretended to be insulted. “How quickly you dismiss my absolute non-flirting. I worked very hard on it, I’ll have you know.”</p><p> </p><p>She still didn’t crack, which he wasn’t sure frightened him or made him even more interested to know more about her. “Please. Like you wouldn’t try if I hadn’t just told you it wouldn’t work.”</p><p> </p><p>He shook his head. “I swear, I wouldn’t even think about it. Besides, picking someone up at a wedding is a little cliche, which you’ve already established.”</p><p> </p><p>“I did,” she replied, but she didn’t sound nearly as pissed or standoffish as he expected. He had a habit of pissing off women, especially those he was attracted to, so it wouldn’t exactly be a surprise, per se. </p><p> </p><p>“But,” she went on before he could think of a proper response. “That doesn’t make this any less not going to happen.” She gestured between the two of them. “Just to be clear.”</p><p> </p><p>He rolled his eyes. “I think you might need to repeat it, I didn’t feel the piano of a statement you just dropped on my head.”</p><p> </p><p>Again, the ghost of a smile appeared on her lips before she whisked it away once more. She hesitated before speaking again, and Murphy wondered what she could possibly say to ease some of the tension of the moment. This was usually the part of the night he’d embarrass himself or become convinced that she was ‘the one’. Luckily, she said something before he could burst out any declarations that would surely frighten her off. </p><p> </p><p>“So, since there’s no chance of this going anywhere, I figure we can spend one night together.” He raised his brows at that and smirked. She scoffed. “Not like <em> that </em>you dumbass.”</p><p> </p><p>“Sorry, sorry,” he said, half-laughing. “Couldn’t help myself.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, I know. After watching you tear into those macaroons it’s a wonder you have any self-control at all.”</p><p> </p><p>“Hey,” he protested. “I think it’s your fault for making them taste so good.”</p><p> </p><p>She huffed. “Fine. Fifty-fifty blame. Deal?”</p><p> </p><p>He extended his hand, and this time, she took it. </p><p> </p><p>“Now, come on,” Anya said. “Let’s go see what other food we can eat before people realize they’re drunk off their asses on champagne and are in need of the mini sliders I made.” She set off down a corridor. </p><p> </p><p>Before following her, Murphy turned to his reflection in a nearby fridge. “Don’t blow this for us,” he told himself.</p><p> </p><p>Then he went after Anya, hoping to hell that maybe, he might not fuck this night up. </p>
<hr/><p>Bellamy had his doubts about Clarke. And not just because she turned down Murphy (though, really, he couldn’t fault her too much for that considering the circumstances). However, all those doubts went out the window when he saw how committed she was to the art of laser tag. In fact, he had never met someone quite as invested as beating a bunch of middle schoolers on a Friday night. Other than himself, of course. </p><p> </p><p>“Okay, so I think we have to revise the game plan,” she said, breathing a little heavily from having just run across the room. “That Gaia kid is totally hellbent on getting me out so we have to find a way to get her out first since she’s easily their best player.”</p><p> </p><p>“Alright, you distract her, I’ll get her out?” Bellamy proposed. </p><p> </p><p>Clarke grinned. “You got it.”</p><p> </p><p>Somehow, despite Gaia’s best efforts and the complaints from every kid on the other team, Clarke and Bellamy prevailed. He had never had such a great victory as he did with Clarke. Even when Murphy begrudgingly came and played, his enthusiasm could never hold up to hers. </p><p> </p><p>When they won, he lifted her up and gloated about it. Much to the disdain of the middle schoolers’ parents. But Clarke didn’t seem to mind. Rather, she seemed amused by him. And she didn’t even roll her eyes, though he almost expected it. </p><p> </p><p>He didn’t think things could get much better than that. But Clarke just kept surprising him. </p><p> </p><p>For one, she knew how to order her steak and lobster with absolute certainty. Unlike Monty, who was vegetarian and had once tried to make Bellamy eat a black bean burger (queue shudder) or Murphy, who ordered his steaks cooked like hockey pucks, she knew the rightness of medium-rare. </p><p> </p><p>It was probably the most fun he’d had at dinner in a long time. Usually, his dinners were a means to an end, unless he was with friends. The dates he went on weren’t exactly in the pursuit of stimulating conversation. For the most part, they were excuses for him to get together with women who didn’t want much more from him than he did from them. </p><p> </p><p>With Clarke though, it felt different. She could make him laugh and had a crude sense of humor when you brought it out of her. She was frank and didn’t let him win any of their arguments. Somehow though, it was still fun. </p><p> </p><p>Bellamy never knew he could be so surprised by Clarke. They moved on to the Gentleman’s club for cigars and scotch, and even more shocking was her complaining when he said they could skip the strip club. He shrugged and the two ended up going to one anyway, which was only cut short when <em> Clarke </em>got a little handsy. </p><p> </p><p>After they left, when she came out for cigars and scotch, his jaw might’ve actually dropped. </p><p> </p><p>“You suited up.” He shook his head in disbelief. “Murphy never suits up. Never. And yet,” he gestured to her, “I am blown away.”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke smirked and landed a hand on her hip before taking the seat next to him. She was dressed in a tailored black pantsuit. She may not have been wearing a tie, but damn, he had to give it to her. She really did know how to exceed expectations. </p><p> </p><p>“You should be,” she said. “I am nothing if not the best bro.”</p><p> </p><p>He lit up a cigar and clinked his scotch glass against hers. “You know what? I think you might be.”</p>
<hr/><p>Murphy realized he liked Anya far more than he should’ve, considering she’d been clear about them only hanging out for that night. Of course, he shouldn’t have really been surprised by this. Still. It was a new low that Bellamy would certainly tease him about. </p><p> </p><p>“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard,” Anya said, laughing as she sipped at her champagne they’d stolen. </p><p> </p><p>Murphy finished off his glass. He wasn’t sure how much he’d had. “I swear, Bellamy tells me to suit up all the time.”</p><p> </p><p>Anya twirled her glass and chewed on her lip before replying, “Well, I do have to admit, you don’t look all that bad right now.”</p><p> </p><p>“Really?” he asked, a little stunned.</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t go proposing marriage,” she teased. “But yeah. I don’t know. I really hope you're not getting as big of a head as your friend Bellamy's about it.”</p><p> </p><p>“I promise.” He laid a hand over his chest. “I would never ask you to marry me just because I look good in a suit. After all, that’s setting you up for like a world of disappointment.”</p><p> </p><p>She laughed at that, a real, full one. The first he’d gotten that night. It filled him with a weird sort of pride. </p><p> </p><p>From even inside the kitchen, he could hear the music dying down. Murphy signed and drained the last of the champagne, straight from the bottle. </p><p> </p><p>Anya swept her hair off her neck. “I should probably get ready to go get my train.”</p><p> </p><p>Murphy nodded. “Can I walk you there?”</p><p><br/>
Anya chewed on her lip before she sighed. “You know what? Yeah, okay. Sure.”</p><p> </p><p>As they walked, Murphy told her more stories about college and then cooking school. </p><p> </p><p>“It’s a shame you get to judge my stuff but I don’t get to judge yours,” she mused. </p><p> </p><p>“Well…” he trailed off. </p><p> </p><p>“Murphy,” she sighed. “This is really nice, okay? But...I have a girlfriend.”</p><p> </p><p>She might as well have thrown a bucket of ice-cold water over him. “<em>What</em>?” </p><p> </p><p>“I’m sorry,” Anya went on. “Really, I should’ve told you. It’s just...It’s a fucked up relationship. I guess I wanted to hide from it for one night.”</p><p> </p><p>“So,” Murphy cut in. “You used me?”</p><p> </p><p>She nodded. “Maybe a little. Does that make me a terrible person?”</p><p> </p><p>He wanted to be mad, wanted to yell at her, or make her feel shitty for what she’d done. But he liked Anya. Despite being so serious she was fun and it’d been a good night. Since that was all they’d promised one another, he thought that would be okay. </p><p> </p><p>“No worse than Tippi,” he settled on. </p><p> </p><p>It worked, and she laughed. “I guess I’ll take it.” </p><p> </p><p>“Bye Murphy,” she said and kissed him on the cheek before going down the stairs towards the train. </p><p> </p><p>He waited a moment, letting out a breath. Leave it to him to finally meet someone he really likes, and he only will ever know her for an evening. Pulling himself together, Bellamy’s voice in his head more than his own, he moved to go back towards the building. </p><p> </p><p>Just as he did though, Anya came running back up the stairs. </p><p> </p><p>“I don’t know why or what this means, but…” She swallowed. “I would really like to see you again Murphy.”</p><p> </p><p>Shocked, it took him a moment to reply. “What about the girlfriend?”<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>Anya shook her head. “It’s been a mess for a long time. I just...I think I forgot what it was like to spend time with someone I really like.”</p><p> </p><p>Murphy grinned, a little smug. “You really like me?”</p><p> </p><p>She rolled her eyes. “I warned you about getting a big head. Look,” she held out her hand, “give me your phone, and I’ll give you my number, okay?”</p><p> </p><p>He forced himself to wait a normal amount of time before he handed her his phone. </p><p> </p><p>“Shit,” she said. “Okay, I really gotta go, so…If you don’t call me I’ll shit talk about you for the rest of time, okay?”</p><p> </p><p>He laughed. “Don’t worry, I’ll call.”</p><p> </p><p>She smiled and his heart pounded as she disappeared once more. </p>
<hr/><p>“This night was filled with awesome,” Bellamy said, grinning. He and Clarke were tipsily walking back to the subway from the Gentleman’s club. </p><p> </p><p>Clarke nodded and smirked. “Well, that’s because I was there.” </p><p> </p><p>“You know what Clarke? I gotta say, I wasn’t sure about you. But now? Certified bro. In fact, you might be one of the best I’ve ever encountered.”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s because I,” she pointed to herself, “am I total badass. Frankly, I don’t know how you coped with just Murphy before me.” </p><p> </p><p>“Poorly, I will tell you that. I suffered greatly. My journey was a lonely, broken road.”</p><p> </p><p>Then she laughed so hard she nearly stumbled as they settled into some of the empty seats in the subway car. Bellamy caught her at the last minute though, steadying her as she tried to get her breathing under control. Even though he didn’t even understand what was so funny in the first place, he found himself laughing too. It was weird, but he didn’t know if anyone had ever made him laugh at <em> nothing </em> before. </p><p> </p><p>“I think you quoted <em> Green Day </em>just then,” she eventually got out.</p><p> </p><p>“I did not,” he argued.</p><p> </p><p>“You so did,” she teased. “You probably have all these secret feelings none of us even know about. Just chocked full of them. And the only time you can let them out is when you listen to pop-punk music from the mid-2000s. I’m right, I can smell it on you.”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy made her a wager if nothing else than to save a little bit of his pride. “You take back the secret feelings part and I’ll admit I have listened to a couple of <em> Green Day </em> songs.”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke considered his offer for a moment before she raised her hand for him to high-five. “Deal.”</p><p> </p><p>He connected his hand against hers and she shook her head. “God. I can’t believe I just did that.”</p><p> </p><p>Snorting, he said, “I definitely can. You’re a bro now, Clarke. And high-fives are an important part of that.”</p><p> </p><p>“There’s no hope for me, is there?” she asked.</p><p> </p><p>“Nope,” he replied. “Might as well admit defeat and dedicate yourself to the life.”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke sighed. “Very well.”</p><p> </p><p>They spent the rest of the ride debating the merits of Gordito versus Lonsdale cigars. Bellamy felt pretty secure in his pick, but hell, if Clarke didn’t make him fight for every inch of it. </p><p> </p><p>Since they actually didn’t live that far from one another, he walked her to her apartment door. </p><p> </p><p>“Thanks, Bellamy,” she told him. “Tonight was…” She huffed out a laugh. “It was really fun.”</p><p> </p><p>“No duh,” he said. </p><p> </p><p>She laughed again, this time sounding more nervous than before. Bellamy frowned. But he wasn’t exactly the best at comforting people. He silently hoped she wasn’t about to burst into tears. Because that would be awkward. She didn’t though, of course, because really, who did he think he was dealing with.</p><p> </p><p>She bit her lip and as he thought she was going to make another joke or say goodbye, she did something that shocked even him.</p><p> </p><p>Clarke kissed him.</p><p> </p><p>It didn’t last long. Mostly because he pushed her away the moment he clocked in what was happening and why it absolutely couldn’t happen and the possibly deathly repercussions of whatever this was happening. </p><p> </p><p>“Clarke—” he started, but she beat him to it.</p><p> </p><p>“Shit,” she gasped out. “Shit, shit, shit. I definitely shouldn’t have done that.”</p><p> </p><p>He swallowed. “Probably not.”</p><p> </p><p>“Can we…” she trailed off.</p><p> </p><p>“We can definitely pretend this never happened,” he said. “Look, Clarke, you’re awesome, and you know you’re hot.” At that, she laughed a little, still with that nervous tone. “But it would be breaking everything The Bro Code stands for if anything happened. You might not be with Murphy but…”</p><p> </p><p>“I get it,” she finished. “Besides, I mean, it’s not like either one of us really is commitment-oriented.”</p><p> </p><p>He huffed. “You got that right.”</p><p> </p><p>“So,” she gulped. </p><p> </p><p>“Bros?” he asked.</p><p> </p><p>She nodded, relieved. “Bros. Most definitely.”</p><p> </p><p>And for the first time in probably his entire life, Bellamy was grateful he didn’t sleep with the hot chick. </p><p> </p><p>It wasn’t until he was back at his place and he thought about Clarke more, about the night it’s whole entirety, that he realized he might be in a bit of trouble. </p><p> </p><p>He ran a hand over his face and sunk down on his bed. “Crap.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>a million thank yous to syd and shae. I really wouldn't be here without your support and love for me and this story. </p><p>thank you so much for reading ❤︎</p><p>find me on <a href="https://animmortalist.tumblr.com/">tumblr</a></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. It was a Bad Idea</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>here we are at chapter three! this one includes a lot, including a marper fight, murphy trying to not ruin things with anya, clarke and bellamy playing parent trap, and a cliffhanger! </p><p>I hope you enjoy this one. feedback is always welcomed and appreciated.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Anya might’ve been the coolest woman that had ever given Murphy her number, and he was going to completely fuck it up. Well, according to Bellamy, he was. </p><p> </p><p>“You can’t call her yet,” Bellamy said for the third time at drinks the night after Murphy met Anya. </p><p> </p><p>Harper and Monty weren’t there yet, and Clarke had just arrived from the art gallery, telling them she needed to get drunk pronto if she was even going to get into what kind of day she’d had. Murphy was sympathetic to how she felt. He could hardly say he was fulfilled at the restaurant where he did grunt work while others executed the Head Chef and owner’s vision. </p><p> </p><p>She was flirting with some scary looking chick over by the bar who had more piercings than Murphy’d had long term relationships. He found out not long after they met this was almost exclusively her type. Given that, he wasn’t all that surprised things hadn’t worked out between them. And he was fine with being just friends. Really. Well, he wished he was fine with it. But he wanted things to work out with Anya. </p><p> </p><p>He knew it might’ve been useless, but he decided to try and get a real answer out of Bellamy about why he couldn’t call. “Why not?” Murphy asked. “Is there some secret rule about not calling a girl after you meet her? Because that’s just dumb.”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy sighed. “Murphy, Murphy, Murphy. What am I gonna do with you?”</p><p> </p><p>“Let me call Anya?” he guessed. </p><p> </p><p>Bellamy looked at him as if he’d just declared he wanted to become a spokesman for a corrupt diamond dealer. </p><p> </p><p>“No, that’s the last thing I will let you do. Because if you call her right now, then you will be dooming this relationship before you even have a chance to doom it in the typical ways you do.”</p><p> </p><p>“Thanks,” Murphy deadpanned. </p><p> </p><p>Bellamy smirked. “You’re welcome. Now, allow me to explain.”</p><p> </p><p>“What are we explaining to Murphy this week?” Clarke asked as she slid into the booth. “How to not tell someone you love them on the first date?”</p><p> </p><p>She smirked at him and he rolled his eyes. “Very funny,” he said.</p><p> </p><p>“It was, indeed,” Bellamy added. “High-five,” and he lifted his hand, Clarke connecting hers to his without even the slightest bit of hesitation. </p><p> </p><p>Before, Murphy had been kind of worried that the two of them would never mesh well. But it seemed that after their Bro Night Out, they’d mended whatever tension was between them. It made things more comfortable for Murphy, certainly, which was honestly one of his main priorities in life. Part of him wished he knew exactly what it was that made them more comfortable around each other, but he bet even if he asked, there was some secret Bro Code rule that forbid Bellamy from telling him. </p><p> </p><p>“I’m glad you two have so much joy in laughing at me. It’s what real friendship is all about, apparently,” Murphy told them, or more like grumbled. </p><p> </p><p>Clarke shrugged and took a sip of her beer. </p><p> </p><p>“Ah, but what is a friend if not someone who can make fun of your most embarrassing moments you wished you could erase from memory?” Harper asked as she took a seat next to Clarke, Monty doing the same in the seat beside Bellamy. </p><p> </p><p>“Seriously though,” Clarke intervened before things could spiral out even more, for which he was grateful. “Why is Bellamy disappointed in you this time?”<br/><br/></p><p>“I was just getting to that,” Bellamy said and Murphy groaned. Bellamy sipped at his scotch before continuing. “I want you all to know that Murphy here is trying to make one of the biggest mistakes of his life.”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s really not that big of a deal,” Murphy defended.</p><p> </p><p>“It is,” Bellamy shot back.</p><p> </p><p>“Isn’t.”<br/><br/></p><p>“<em>Is </em>.”</p><p> </p><p>Murphy shook his head. “<em>Isn’t </em>.”</p><p> </p><p>“Hell, just let him explain it,” Monty said to Murphy. </p><p> </p><p>He looked at him in disbelief. “Traitor.”</p><p> </p><p>Monty sighed. “I just figure the sooner Bellamy gets this over with the sooner we can try and make him make that high pitched yelp whenever he loses at pool.”</p><p> </p><p>Murphy contemplated the pros and cons of letting Bellamy mock his personal life once more. “Fair enough,” he said, but not without some amount of fanfare dramatics. </p><p> </p><p>“It is not a yelp,” Bellamy told them all.</p><p> </p><p> In response, Monty only gave a slightly sympathetic pat on the shoulder. “Of course it is. Now, tell us embarrassing stories about Murphy’s dating life already.”<br/><br/></p><p>Murphy rolled his eyes but Bellamy grinned. “I will. As this is just further evidence that, in our years of friendship and despite my insistence, Murphy has never opened his traveler’s copies of The Bro Code or The Playbook.”</p><p> </p><p>“I haven’t,” Murphy admitted without pause. “But I did use them to kill a pretty gnarly cockroach.”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy flinched a little, and it was worth whatever was coming next. “Gonna pretend you didn’t say that. But, pressing on, there’s the serious matter of the Three Day Rule. This rule lays out that you must never, under any circumstances, call a girl before three days have passed since you got her number. And Murphy claims to have never heard of it.”</p><p> </p><p>“Because it isn’t real!” Murphy exclaimed. “I mean,” he turned to Monty, “back me up, okay?”<br/><br/></p><p>“Absolutely,” Monty said. “I didn’t wait three days to call Harper. And we were making out like forty minutes after we met.” </p><p> </p><p>“Exactly,” Murphy nodded. He looked over at Bellamy and very maturely, went, “Hahaha. In your face.”</p><p> </p><p>“I gotta disagree,” Clarke spoke up.</p><p> </p><p>Murphy frowned. “What? We went out the day after we met.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah,” she smirked. “And look how that turned out.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oof,” Bellamy sighed. “Sorry, Murphy, I think you’re beat.”</p><p> </p><p>“Not even,” Murphy argued. “Monty, you know this rule is crap, right?”<br/><br/></p><p>“Of course it is,” Monty said. “If you’re really into someone, you call like right away. No holding back.”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy sighed and tsked his tongue. Then he narrowed his eyes at Harper. “Harper, you’ve been awfully quiet.”</p><p> </p><p>“Um…” she started.</p><p> </p><p>He grinned and Murphy knew he was about to start shit. “What is your opinion on the existence of the Three Day Rule.”</p><p> </p><p>Harper chewed on her lip.</p><p> </p><p>Monty snorted. “Go on, babe, tell him how idiotic this thing is.”</p><p> </p><p>Harper scrunched up her face and studied her cider for a long time before she looked back up at Monty. “I agree with Bellamy.” She swallowed and grimaced. “God, I think I just threw up a little from admitting that.”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy turned to Murphy, glee all over his face. “Ha.Ha.Ha. In <em> your </em> face! I win!” <br/><br/></p><p>“Hold up,” Monty raised a hand before looking over at Harper. “But you didn’t wait three days to find my dorm room. How is that fundamentally not breaking the same rule you apparently believe in?”</p><p> </p><p>“Well…” Harper trailed off.</p><p> </p><p>Clarke’s eyes went a little wide and she pretended to be very interested in her beer bottle’s label. Murphy knew something was up and thought it might be best to just leave it. Let the two of them discuss this amongst themselves. Of course, not everyone felt that way.</p><p> </p><p>“This is better than TV,” Bellamy exclaimed.</p><p> </p><p>Monty shot him a dark look. “What is it? You told me you saw me and Murphy moving into our dorm and then knew you had to come and find me, that you knew it was fate.” </p><p> </p><p>Murphy added to the rest of them, “Plus, we had the best stereo on the floor. No brag.”<br/><br/></p><p>“That was most definitely a brag,” Clarke shot back.</p><p> </p><p>Murphy opened his mouth to reply, but before he could, Harper finally got out, “I might’ve….Made part of that up.”</p><p> </p><p>“<em>What</em>?” Monty and Murphy asked at the same time. </p><p> </p><p>Harper looked up and shook her head. “I’m really, really sorry, okay? But when you opened the door, and I saw you, then I knew. I knew I was gonna love you. And I didn’t wanna ruin it with the truth. So, I kind of, lied.”</p><p> </p><p>Monty scoffed. “So what is the truth then? Were you just trying to use me for my body?”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy tapped Murphy on the shoulder. “This is amazing.”</p><p> </p><p>Murphy shoved him. “Grow up.”</p><p> </p><p>“No, he’s right,” Clarke side, still wide-eyed. “This <em> is </em>amazing.”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy grinned at Murphy, smug, who rolled his eyes, not wanting to dignify either one of their antics with a response. </p><p> </p><p>“No, not that.” Harper let out a breath. </p><p> </p><p>“Oh, thank god,” Monty got out, relief all over his face.</p><p> </p><p>A relief which disappeared as soon as Harper went on. “I was there to sleep with Murphy.”</p><p> </p><p>“<em>WHAT</em>?” Murphy, Bellamy, Clarke, and Monty all managed to say at once. Which might’ve been one of the most impressive things they’d ever done as a group when he thought about it. </p><p> </p><p>Harper, looking as guilty as she had when she had broken Murphy’s prized stereo minutes after arriving at their dorm room, continued, “But I knew the minute I saw you Monty that that would never happen and that I wanted to be with you!”</p><p> </p><p>Murphy raised his hands in defense when Monty glowered over at him. “Nothing happened, I swear. I was obsessed with Monroe, remember? Though,” he said, “I can’t really blame Harper can I?” If he was honest, he <em> was </em>sort of feeling a weird sense of pride about it all. </p><p> </p><p>Monty shuddered at the memory of Murphy’s college girlfriend, but he still looked hurt and, Murphy worried, vaguely in the mood to punch him.  </p><p> </p><p>“But…” Monty shook his head. “Why?”</p><p> </p><p>“It was college,” Harper explained. “I had <em> just </em>broken up with Sterling and someone said Murphy was an asshole, but also lame, and I figured…” She waved a hand. “What the hell.”</p><p> </p><p>“You were gonna use Murphy’s dickishness to sleep with him like he’s some bimbo?” Monty asked.</p><p> </p><p>Harper bit her lip again. “Maybe?” When Monty gasped, she went on, “And not to make this moment even weirder, but I really can’t tell if you’re more pissed I lied to you and that I was planning to use Murphy for sex or that I somehow cheapened your best friend.”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s both, Harper,” Monty exclaimed. “Of course, it is both.”</p><p> </p><p>“But mostly the cheapening thing?” Harper guessed.</p><p> </p><p>Monty looked a bit ashamed but did admit, “Yeah, mostly that.”</p><p> </p><p>“Great.” Harper brightened. “So, you’re not mad at me?”</p><p> </p><p>“<em>No</em>,” Monty shook his head, appearing half-amazed, half-crushed. Frankly, he looked like someone kicked his shins on the playground. Still. Murphy knew when he was actually upset, and this did seem to be it. “I am beyond mad at you. In fact,” he picked up his beer, drained it, and then got up from the booth. “I need to be alone for a solid forty-five minutes before we can even begin to discuss this like the mature adults we are!” With that, he exited the bar. </p><p> </p><p>“Shit,” Harper muttered. But she got up and went after him anyway. </p><p> </p><p>“Wow,” Clarke said after a moment when Murphy was still too stunned to think about how things had just escalated.</p><p> </p><p>“I blame you,” Murphy told Bellamy.</p><p> </p><p>“Me?” he asked.</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, you. You with your stupid Three Day Rule.”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy sighed. “For the last time it’s not stupid it’s—”</p><p> </p><p>“It is,” he interjected. “You know why?” He shoved his phone in Bellamy’s face, who frowned and looked at him like he might’ve lost it a little. “Because while Harper and Monty were fighting, I texted Anya, and we have a date for tomorrow night.”</p><p> </p><p>“Murphy!” Bellamy chastised. </p><p> </p><p>“And there’s nothing you can do about it,” he replied, a smug look on his face no doubt, but feeling too good about himself to really care. </p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, we’ll see how this goes,” Clarke said.</p><p> </p><p>“You two may lack faith in me,” Murphy shook his head, “but I will believe in myself enough for ten times your doubt. There is just one small favor.”</p><p> </p><p>“You need help picking out an outfit, don’t you?” Bellamy asked.</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, that too,” he nodded.</p><p> </p><p>“And a restaurant?” Clarke guessed.</p><p> </p><p>“Shit, yeah, that one as well,” he admitted.</p><p> </p><p>“And a diamond engagement ring,” Bellamy added. </p><p> </p><p>Murphy paused. “Do you think she’d like that?”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke groaned and shoved his shoulder. “That was a test, Murphy.”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy sighed and raised his glass. “To Murphy, failing even the most obvious of tests.” Clarke clinked her beer against it. </p><p> </p><p>“Very funny,” Murphy deadpanned. “But, what I really need help with is not making a total ass of myself on this date.”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke contemplated this and he saw as she exchanged a look with Bellamy.</p><p> </p><p>“Just be yourself,” she said.</p><p> </p><p>Murphy looked pained.</p><p> </p><p>“Be less of yourself,” Bellamy clarified. “Be...Murphy Lite.”</p><p> </p><p>“Murphy Lite,” he repeated. “Okay, yeah, I can do that.”</p><p> </p><p>Murphy ended up not ruining things, despite the less than stellar advice from friends and his own inclinations. But that left Harper and Monty still embedded deep in their feud.</p><hr/><p>Harper and Monty still weren’t on good terms, which made things rather awkward for Clarke since Murphy started dating Anya and spending most of his time with her. She hadn’t expected the date to go so well, especially with the whole debacle at the bar the night before, but things apparently went well. Enough that they were now sleeping together. For which Bellamy congratulated him and somehow immediately guessed the exact time frame since he’d last gotten laid. It had been hilarious. Despite that though, things were awkward, especially with Harper and Monty.</p><p> </p><p>Frankly, she and Bellamy were getting sick of the weird group dynamic that had emerged in the last couple of weeks. Which was why they were going to come up with a plan. Mostly to save their own asses from dealing with this much longer, but they did care about their friends’ happiness too.</p><p> </p><p>She’d believed things would be tense between her and Bellamy since their kiss, but they weren’t. Maybe a little left-over sexual tension, but other than that, they were actually doing quite well as just friends. The same couldn’t be said for Harper and Monty, who were still in a fight after Harper revealed she actually knocked on his dorm room to sleep with Murphy. Not to declare to her love for Monty, as had previously been his thinking. Honestly, Clarke didn’t get the big controversy, but then again, she wasn’t super good at ‘feelings’. </p><p> </p><p>“Please tell Monty to pass the nachos,” Harper said at <em> Roma’s. </em> It had been two weeks of this. Clarke was exhausted just looking at the two of them. </p><p> </p><p>“Please tell Harper that if she wanted some nachos, she can have some of Murphy’s,” Monty replied without actually replying to his fiancé. </p><p> </p><p>“Murphy’s not even here,” Bellamy pointed out. </p><p> </p><p>“Where is he?” Harper asked. </p><p> </p><p>“With Anya,” Clarke said. “Again. I mean, that’s like...The third time this week.” Not that Clarke had been paying much attention to Murphy and Anya. At least, that’s what she told herself.</p><p> </p><p>The truth was probably a bit more complicated. </p><p> </p><p>Clarke didn’t like thinking about this, but the truth was, she thought there might, <em> might </em>be a small part of her that regretted what she’d done the night Murphy told her he loved her. She’d done the sane thing, maybe. But also, she kept thinking that it was the safe thing as well. She was good at the safe thing. Maybe too good. Not that she even knew where to begin thinking about that. Or even wanted to look at it too closely, scared out of her mind about what she might find. </p><p> </p><p>Bellamy interrupted her thoughts though, for which she was grateful. </p><p> </p><p>“I know, he’s totally not respecting any of the rules I tried to lay down for him.” Bellamy sighed. “It’s as if he doesn’t even want to learn how to be good with women.”</p><p> </p><p>Everyone was saved answering that by Harper’s phone ringing.</p><p> </p><p>She excused herself to answer it and Clarke took the opportunity to get into it with Monty. </p><p> </p><p>“You two are going to have to make up eventually.”</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t see why,” he sniffed. </p><p> </p><p>She and Bellamy looked at one another. He rolled his eyes but seemed to accept what she wanted from him. </p><p> </p><p>“You two are getting—pardon my disgust—<em>married</em>. You’re going to have to talk at some point. Why not just get it over with?”</p><p> </p><p>Monty took a drink. “Valid argument, but no go. At least, not until she admits she was wrong for seeking out Murphy, and that she subconsciously actually wanted to find me.”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke frowned. “You don’t believe that though, do you?”</p><p> </p><p>Monty shook his head. “You wouldn’t understand. You don’t have our connection.”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy snorted. “I’m not sure anyone should.”</p><p> </p><p>Monty glared at him but then Harper came back over and he returned to hoarding his nachos. </p><p> </p><p>“Clarke,” Harper said, “please tell Monty that the caterer called, and we have to go in to taste food tomorrow.”</p><p> </p><p>“Monty,” Clarke started, but then thought better of it. “Fuck it, you heard her.”</p><p> </p><p>“Bellamy,” Monty said, “please tell Harper that I will be there at five.”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy looked vaguely appalled and said nothing. </p><p> </p><p>“Now, if you excuse us, we have to go back to the apartment to continue our binge-watch of <em> You </em>.”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s fitting,” Bellamy grinned. “My bet is on Harper murdering Monty. What about you, Clarke?”</p><p> </p><p>“Harper, easy,” she replied, unable to stop herself from smiling a bit. “It’s that sunny disposition. First to smile, first to crack.”</p><p> </p><p>Harper narrowed her eyes at them. </p><p> </p><p>Monty stood up from the booth and waited as Harper did the same. “Clarke, please tell Harper that I would gladly accept her murdering me because I’m sure she has her reasons.”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy shook his head and Clarke scoffed. “Okay, I’ll be sure to send her a carrier pigeon with that information.”</p><p> </p><p>“What are we gonna do with those two?” Clarke asked Bellamy once they were gone.</p><p> </p><p>He shrugged. “Let them sort it out.” He seemed content to not say anything more, but she stared him down until he did. “Okay, what do <em> you </em>wanna do?”</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t know, but I feel...Murphy would do something.”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy sipped at his scotch. “Ah, but, we are not Murphy.”</p><p> </p><p>“True,” she allowed. “But I still think we have to do something. I mean, if they keep this up, they’re gonna deliver their vows to <em> us. </em>Harper’s hot, but I’m in no position to be getting married in a couple of months.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah,” Bellamy nodded. “Plus, Monty will probably cry, and I’d rather he do that in her arms than mine.”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke agreed. “So, we’re doing something.” The only trouble was figuring out exactly how the hell they were going to do that. </p><p> </p><p>The two of them sat in silence for a while and then started throwing around ideas. All of them more pathetic than the last. When they got to locking the two of them in a closet, Clarke knew they were doomed. </p><p> </p><p>“I got it,” Bellamy snapped his fingers and she perked up. “Parent Trap.”</p><p> </p><p>“You’re kidding,” she said, hoping that he was but at the same time intrigued by the idea.</p><p> </p><p>“Nope.” He laughed and seemed delighted by his own genius. “It’s perfect. We’ll go with them to the caterer, and make them see how much they miss actually talking about their annoying couple crap with one another.”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke considered it. “I like it,” she decided. “And even better: we be so insufferable, that they have no choice but to make up.”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy smirked. “Clarke, you’re brilliant.”</p><p> </p><p>“I know,” she replied, ever humble. </p><p> </p><p>It turned out to be a bit tricker than the two of them imagined though.</p><p> </p><p>Which was how Bellamy and Clarke found themselves stuck eating a five-course meal with two people who were getting married and yet refused to speak. </p><p> </p><p>It was awkward to say the least. Once, Monty actually asked Bellamy to taste some of Harper’s food for him. Clarke had never seen him so horrified. </p><p> </p><p>They had to step up their game. </p><p> </p><p>“Waiter,” she said. “Can the two of us,” she gestured between herself and Bellamy, “get some more scotch.”</p><p> </p><p>If she was gonna help fuck up this dinner, she was going to need to be at least a little bit drunk. </p><p> </p><p>Monty looked a little afraid and she smirked as she took a bit of a mini slider. Good. He should’ve been. </p><p> </p><p>She grinned even wider as something occurred to her. “Bellamy, what is the vilest thing you’ve ever done to get a woman into bed?”<br/><br/></p><p>Monty looked over at Harper, just for a second, but Clarke felt herself grin all the same. It was working. </p><p> </p><p>Once Bellamy told his story (which involved a goose, a fake golden egg, and a Willy Wonka hat) he asked her what was the worst excuse she’d ever given to leave someone’s apartment before the morning. When she relayed her story, Harper’s jaw actually dropped and Monty set down his fork in disgust. </p><p> </p><p>This time, Harper actually said, “Hell, Monty—” before she caught herself and stopped. </p><p> </p><p>It went on like that for forty-three minutes. Clarke asking Bellamy questions she knew would set the both of them off. Bellamy letting her tell gnarly stories about misspent youth in Canada. She was starting to wonder if they would ever break. Then, she decided to eat only with her hands (even when the pasta course came out) and Bellamy flirted so much with one of their waitresses that Harper blushed bright red with anger. Just as she was trying to come up with something even worse, they cracked under the pressure. </p><p> </p><p>“Fine, fine!” Monty exclaimed as he rubbed his forehead. “You guys win.” Then he turned to Harper. “I’m so sorry babe, really. I was just...Pissed, I guess. But I don’t want to not be speaking anymore.” He shot Bellamy and Clarke a dark look. “Especially with these two...Being the way they are.”</p><p> </p><p>Harper smiled and shook her head. “No, Monty, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have been so stubborn. I’m so glad it was you who answered that door. I don’t want to be with Murphy, I never did. The only person I’ve ever wanted to marry is you. Well, and Justin Timberlake, but you know.”</p><p> </p><p>Monty laughed. “I guess this whole thing was pretty stupid.”</p><p> </p><p>Harper nodded. “Just a bit.”</p><p> </p><p>“Well well well,” Bellamy smirked. “I think we did a pretty fantastic job, don’t you Clarke?”</p><p> </p><p>She clinked her glass against his and returned his smile. “We deserve a statue erected in our honor.”</p><p> </p><p>Monty and Harper rolled their eyes at them, but Clarke felt too good about their success to care. </p><p> </p><p>Later, after her and Bellamy’s valiant victory, she felt pride at the fact that they’d finished the dinner with much more conversation than at the start. She was drinking more scotch and rewatching a season of a reality show she’d already seen. It was just after two in the morning. </p><p> </p><p>Then her phone rang. She looked down at it, figuring it might be Bellamy caught by some chick at the bar he couldn’t get away from. But it was Murphy. She swore he said he’d be with Anya tonight, but she could’ve been wrong. </p><p> </p><p>“Hey, Clarke,” Murphy greeted, sounding somber. </p><p> </p><p>She frowned. “Murphy, is something wrong?” She wasn’t really in the mood to deal with a mopey Murphy, but she figured she owed it to him to at least try and be a good friend. </p><p> </p><p>He paused and she thought he might not go on, but he did. “Anya and I are done, I think,” he said, slightly defeated.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, shit,” she got out, and then she realized she wasn’t even sad. She was <em> relieved.  </em></p><p> </p><p>And then, shock. </p><p> </p><p>Why the hell was she relieved her friend had just broken up with someone he seemed to really like? It didn’t make sense. She was meant to want to comfort him, to be there for him. Maybe invite him out to get drunk and hit up a strip club. But certainly, she was not supposed to feel <em> good. </em>Her head spun and she realized he was talking. She swallowed and mustered up as much as she could given her current crisis. </p><p> </p><p>“I’m so sorry, Murphy.”</p><p> </p><p>He huffed. “I don’t know if I am.”</p><p> </p><p>There was something in his tone that made her believe it.</p><p> </p><p>She shook her head, half-hoping she already knew the answer. “Why?”</p><p> </p><p>On the other end, he swallowed. Loud enough for her to hear. “Fuck,” he sighed. “Clarke you know why.”</p><p> </p><p>If she was the gasping type, she definitely would’ve done it. That said, it surprised her, his openness, his willingness to just tell her what he was really feeling. If she was being honest with herself, it kind of swept her off her feet. And it wasn’t the first time he’d done it. Like the first, after he stole the Blue French Horn for her, she felt so much younger than she was. As much as it freaked her out, it also made her crave more of the feeling.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m sorry if that’s weird for you to hear,” Murphy said. “I know I don’t have much of a right telling you that.”</p><p> </p><p>“No, it’s…” she trailed off, desperately trying to think of a response. “It’s okay,” she settled on. </p><p> </p><p>She steeled her resolve. This was crazy. <em>She </em>was crazy. Murphy and Anya only just broke up, and she was a mess. There was no way she was in any sort of position to start something with Murphy. Murphy, who she’d written off maybe too soon. Murphy, who she valued as a friend. But maybe she valued him as something more than that, too. It confused her. She’d been so sure where the lines were in their relationship, but she wondered if those lines hadn’t been an excuse all along. </p><p> </p><p>There was only one way for her to really know, and as much as it might fuck everything up, she actually found she didn’t just want to know. She needed to. </p><p> </p><p>“Can I come over?” she asked.</p><p> </p><p>Murphy paused. She thought he might’ve said something, hushed, but she figured she was just imagining it.</p><p> </p><p>“Of course, yeah. I’ll be here.”</p><p> </p><p>She might not have known what the fuck she was doing, but goddamnit, she was going for it. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>thank you for reading ❤︎</p><p>find me on tumblr (@animmortalist)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Nothing Good Happens After 2AM</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>this one follows the fallout of Clarke showing up at Murphy's. There isn't much Bellamy in this one, though he does make a small appearance, and Harper and Monty aren't in this one, but I hope I managed to make it funny and sad and a good read all the same. The next one is pretty group orientated, so hopefully, it'll feel balanced. </p><p>feedback is always appreciated, and thank you again.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Murphy didn’t know what the hell he was meant to think about Clarke coming over after two AM. He knew he wasn’t gonna deny her though, once she asked. He also knew, despite everything in his head that told him otherwise, that she wanted to come over for one reason only. As the thought settled in after she hung up, he still couldn’t wrap his head around it. For months, he’d denied and pushed down and tried to kill his true feelings for Clarke. Now, there was a chance that she might return them. There was just one, small, insignificant detail. </p><p> </p><p>He and Anya were, technically, still together. </p><p> </p><p>That sounded worse than it was. The truth of it was that they really did get into a fight, and he really did think it was the end. But then, five minutes <em> before </em> Clarke called him, he got a text from Anya. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> imessage </em>
</p><p> </p><p><b>Anya: </b>I’m sorry we fought so badly. I’m exhausted, but can we talk about this tomorrow? I still really like you, despite everything. </p><p> </p><p>Murphy stared at his phone for a moment. He knew he should just end it, that much was clear. The reason behind the fight was that Anya thought he still had feelings for Clarke. The right thing to do was be honest with her, and let her move on. Try to do it himself, though he had a horrible feeling it would work just as poorly this time around. As much as he liked Anya, he knew he felt differently about Clarke. Murphy frowned in disgust at himself. God, Bellamy was right. He really was pathetic. </p><p> </p><p>He went back and forth before he texted back:</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> imessage </em>
</p><p> </p><p><b>Murphy: </b>of course. I still really like you, too. </p><p> </p><p>She didn’t reply to that, but he figured she must’ve read it. Maybe it wasn’t the right thing to do. In fact, it was probably the most selfish thing to do, given the situation. But he didn’t want to be alone. And he didn’t lie. He really did like Anya. </p><p> </p><p>Then Clarke called, and he told her she could come over, and he realized he was completely and totally fucked. </p><p> </p><p>Frantically, he called Anya. But it went right to voicemail. He tried again and the same thing happened. So, either she was blocking her calls or she’d put her phone on Do Not Disturb. He didn’t know which one was the worse option. He needed her to answer. Needed to talk to her right then. Because if he didn’t, then he could’ve kissed any chance he’d ever had with Clarke goodbye. </p><p> </p><p>The thought made him want to throw up. He never imagined he’d get this chance with her again. Believed that the door between them and a relationship was shut forever. Suddenly, it wasn’t anymore. And he was going to ruin it all. Again. </p><p> </p><p>He <em>n</em><em>eeded </em>to talk to Anya. </p><p> </p><p>As he was calling her a third time, there was a knock at the door. As messed up as it was, he hoped Monty and Harper’s impromptu trip to the beach had gone horribly, and it was them at the door. He should’ve known better. </p><p> </p><p>When he opened the door, Clarke smiled tentatively at him. He didn’t move for a moment and neither did she. Then, she chewed her lip and laughed a little. </p><p> </p><p>“So, are you going to let me in?” she asked. </p><p> </p><p>He swallowed and moved aside. “Of course, yeah. Sorry, it’s just…”</p><p> </p><p>“Wait, Murphy,” she said before he could get anything about Anya out. “Before you say anything, can I say something?"</p><p> </p><p>He nodded. “Okay, but I really have to tell you something.”</p><p> </p><p>She agreed. “I know, and I have to tell you something, too.” Her expression turned serious and she looked around the half-assed decorated apartment for a moment. </p><p> </p><p>His heart plummeted into his stomach. She had changed her mind. Or was going to change her mind. Or maybe he completely misunderstood her call. That had to be it. Clarke didn’t want him at all. He’d been wrong. Murphy had never felt he misinterpreted a situation so badly in his entire life. Bellamy was going to laugh his ass off once he told him about this one. </p><p> </p><p>“I know this,” she gestured between the two of them, “is a mess waiting to happen.” He swallowed and nodded, preparing himself for the absolute worse. </p><p> </p><p>“But,” she sighed. “I can’t shake the feeling that something’s meant to happen between us. I know I stopped things, but I think that I made a mistake.” He frowned and she looked worried. “I mean, that could just be me I don’t…”</p><p> </p><p>But he couldn’t help himself, and went over to her, taking one of her hands in his own. “No, Clarke that’s….Hell, that’s all I want. For us to try, even if it’s a mess, even if it’s a nightmare.”</p><p> </p><p>She smiled a bit. “You <em> know </em> it’s going to be a nightmare, too.”</p><p> </p><p>He snorted. “I’m betting on it. Maybe we’ll finally find something that scares Harper.”</p><p> </p><p>“I doubt even our disastrous attempt at a relationship would shake her nerves.” She knitted their fingers together and moved a bit closer. </p><p> </p><p>“You’re probably right,” he allowed.</p><p> </p><p>Then, her eyes flicked down at his lips and it occurred to him. Shit. Clarke was going to kiss him. And he was still basically with Anya. </p><p> </p><p><em> Shit</em>. </p><p> </p><p>He unlocked their hands. “Sorry,” he said, desperately trying to come up with something that wasn’t stupid as an excuse to stop them. “I gotta...Go to the bathroom.”</p><p> </p><p>She looked confused, but he stepped away and nearly ran into the bathroom, not giving her any time to speak. </p><p> </p><p><em> Real, smooth, Murphy. Definitely didn’t freak her out or ruin your chance with her at all. </em>He could almost hear Bellamy say. </p><p> </p><p>He looked at himself in the mirror. He was the picture of a panicked idiot who was going to screw himself over with his dream girl. As if the first time hadn’t been enough. </p><p> </p><p>What the hell was he going to do?</p><p> </p><p>Then, his phone rang. He sent up a silent prayer to a god he didn’t think he believed in. It was Anya. </p><p> </p><p>“Hi Murphy,” she said when he picked up. “I’m sorry, I know it’s so late and that I told you I wanted to wait until tomorrow to talk, but…” He heard her swallow. “I needed to talk about our fight.”</p><p> </p><p>Murphy then realized she was waiting for him to reply, and given the thin walls of the apartment, there was no way he could speak to her at a normal volume. He mouthed, ‘fuck,’ to himself. </p><p> </p><p>Then he summoned up as many guts as he had at that given time, and whispered, “That’s okay. I get it.”</p><p> </p><p>He could almost hear her alarmed expression. “Why are you whispering?”</p><p> </p><p>“Because…” he trailed off. “Monty and Harper had a horrible fight, and Monty’s crying in the other room.”</p><p> </p><p>Murphy knew he was an asshole, truly, he knew. </p><p> </p><p>“Oh,” she replied, but somehow, she seemed to buy it. If only a little. “Well, if you can’t talk then we really can wait for tomorrow—”</p><p> </p><p>“No, wait!” he exclaimed, well, as much as he could at a whisper. “He’s distracted with <em> Star Wars </em>right now, I can talk. Just, uh, quietly.”</p><p> </p><p>“Okay…” Anya said. He couldn’t describe how thankful he was, even if she did sound suspicious. “Look,” she went on. “What I meant when I said you and Clarke were spending too much time together, it didn’t mean I want you to stop being friends with her.”</p><p> </p><p>Murphy let out a breath. “I know, but—”</p><p> </p><p>“Let me finish, okay?” she asked and he agreed. “I was wrong before, to accuse you of having feelings for Clarke. I don’t know what came over me. I acted like such an ass.” She paused. “You can go now.”</p><p> </p><p>How the hell was he meant to tell Anya that she hadn’t been the ass, but him? That she was right to suspect Murphy of having those feelings for Clarke. No matter what he said, he knew what it would sound like. As if he’d cheated on her, emotionally or otherwise. He hated the thought that even that concept had some weight to it, without him even telling her that Clarke was currently in his apartment. </p><p> </p><p>Shit, he thought. <em> Clarke</em>. </p><p> </p><p>She was outside in the main room of the apartment and probably thought he was taking the longest shit in the world. Hardly sexy. God, he really was gonna blow it with her. </p><p> </p><p>“Uh, Anya,” he said, freaking out a little. “I gotta call you back.”</p><p> </p><p>“What?” she asked. “Murphy—”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m sorry I will call you back, but Monty’s sobbing again.” </p><p> </p><p>She sighed. “Fine. I’ll wait."</p><p> </p><p>Then he shoved his phone into his jeans, flushed the toilet, and washed his hands. The last part maybe wasn’t needed, but he felt pretty gross after that phone call. </p><p> </p><p>“Everything okay?” Clarke asked, a dip between her brows, when he came back out. </p><p> </p><p>He nodded a little too vicariously. “Fine, no worries.”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke didn’t buy it though. “You sure?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah,” he sighed. “No, actually, Clarke I have to tell you something.”</p><p> </p><p>Her eyes went a little wide. “Oh, God. You’re having second thoughts aren’t you? It’s too soon, right? I mean, of course, it is. You just broke up with Anya tonight.” Murphy was immensely proud of himself that he managed not to wince. “This was a bad idea,” she gestured with her hand. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking.” </p><p> </p><p>“No, no,” he said. “It’s not a bad idea. Not at all.”</p><p> </p><p>She shook her head slightly. He cupped her cheek. “It’s not a bad idea, Clarke.” She looked up at him and really did seem convinced. And then she stood up a little, and his phone started ringing. He backed away. </p><p> </p><p>“Murphy, what’s wrong?” she asked.</p><p> </p><p>“Give me one second,” he said. He looked at his phone, it was Anya. “It’s Monty,” he lied. “I better take this, but I’ll be back, I promise.”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke seemed like she wanted to protest, but she nodded. “Okay, yeah, sure.”</p><p> </p><p>He went up to the roof, hoping he could break up with Anya and then go have sex with Clarke. Fuck. When you put it like that, he really did sound terrible. Worse. He sounded like Bellamy. Except not even Bellamy would do this, he was pretty sure. At least Bellamy was honest with the women he hooked up with. Murphy was a liar. To Anya, to Clarke. He took a breath. He couldn’t focus on that right now. He was so close to getting a chance, a real one, with Clarke. He couldn’t let himself get in his own way again. </p><p> </p><p>He answered. “Hey, sorry about that. Monty’s a total wreck.”</p><p> </p><p>“God, I’m sorry,” Anya replied and it made Murphy feel even worse. “Really, it isn’t that important, if you need to be a friend right now that’s—”</p><p> </p><p>“He’s doing a little bit better,” Murphy cut in. “Now, look, Anya, I like you a lot but—”</p><p> </p><p>She sighed. “I know what you’re gonna say.”</p><p> </p><p>He frowned. “You do?” he asked, completely taken aback.</p><p> </p><p>“Of course, I do.” She went on, “I should’ve seen it coming sooner, and honestly, I’m sorry that I didn’t.”</p><p> </p><p>“Anya,” he started. “You have nothing to apologize for.”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s too kind, Murphy, really.” She swallowed, a little thickly. “You’re a good guy.”</p><p> </p><p>Jesus fucking Christ. This was the easiest break-up he’d ever experienced. She was doing all the work. He didn’t even have to say it. He wondered if astronauts felt this accomplished. He bet they didn’t. Nothing could trump this. He really didn’t think he was going to pull it off at one point. That he’d ruin both his thing with Anya and his friendship with Clarke and his actually getting Clarke. But he wasn’t going to. He was going to get everything he wanted.</p><p> </p><p>He realized Anya was still talking but had missed some of what she said. Given that, he went with, “Thank you, for being so awesome.”</p><p> </p><p>“Thanks, Murphy. Have a nice night. See you tomorrow.”</p><p> </p><p>Then she hung up, leaving Murphy staring down at his phone in shock. Yes, before their fight tonight and before they even made plans to hang out that night, they’d agreed to have brunch with one of Anya’s friends. But that was before they broke up. At least, he <em>thought </em>they’d broken up.</p><p> </p><p>“Shit,” he said to himself.</p><p> </p><p>They definitely weren’t broken up. </p><p> </p><p>“Murphy?” Clarke called as she came up onto the roof. </p><p> </p><p>Damn him. He was so screwed. </p><p> </p><p>“Yep,” he said, as casual as possible. </p><p> </p><p>Which wasn’t casual at all, by the worried look on her face. </p><p> </p><p>“How’s Monty? Everything okay with him and Harper?” There was genuine concern in her eyes, and he’d forgotten she and Bellamy had dinner with the two of them that night. </p><p> </p><p>“Everything’s fine,” he assured her. </p><p> </p><p>With his luck, she’d get too worried and call Harper and find out just how badly he was lying. If that wouldn’t kill the night along with his leaving every five minutes, then nothing would. </p><p> </p><p>“Really?” She huffed out, “I thought me and Bellamy fixed them. Damn it, I think I’m gonna call Harper.”</p><p> </p><p>“Wait!” he nearly shouted. She frowned and raised her brows, waiting for an explanation. </p><p> </p><p>“I was talking to Monty because, um,” his mind came up with nothing, absolutely nothing, that would convince Clarke not to call Harper. Then it did. “That he’s having trouble, you know, <em> performing </em>.”</p><p> </p><p>He was going to Hell. He could see it now. The black iron gates. The pits of fire. The special section that was reserved just for him. </p><p> </p><p>“Oh,” she said, then she burst out laughing.</p><p> </p><p>Yep, he was definitely going to Hell now.</p><p> </p><p>“Why didn’t you just say that at first?” she asked and rolled her eyes. “Men.”</p><p> </p><p>“Exactly,” he gestured with a hand. “Men. It’s, uh, it’s a delicate subject, really, and I didn’t want Monty feeling worse than he already does.”</p><p> </p><p>“God. Your egos.” Then she got a mischievous look in her eye that made his throat get tight. She stepped towards him and played with a bit of his shirt. “So...Speaking of performing…”</p><p> </p><p>“One more thing,” he said and hell, she <em>pouted. </em>Life was not fair. Not to him, at least. “I just gotta talk to Monty a little bit more, and then we can,” he cleared his throat, “you know.”</p><p> </p><p>“I know,” Clarke replied. She rolled her eyes again but shoved at him a little. “Go ahead, call Monty. I’ll be in your <em> bed </em>.” Before she left, she added, “Don’t make me start without you,” in a bit of a sing-song voice. </p><p> </p><p>Once she was gone, Murphy looked towards the sky and in some desperate plea, prayed, “Please, for the love of all that I never believed in any higher being before tonight, please let me have this?”</p><p> </p><p>He didn’t call Anya at first though, he called Bellamy. </p><p> </p><p>“The fuck?” Bellamy asked. “Dude, do you know what time it is?”</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t give a fuck, I need your help,” he rushed out.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m a little—” he started, but Murphy cut him off.</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t care how hot she is.” Murphy let out a breath. “I need your help sleeping with Clarke.”</p><p> </p><p>“Do you really think so little of me that you would assume I’m in bed with some hot chick right now?” Bellamy asked.</p><p> </p><p>In the background, Murphy heard a nasal-voiced girl ask, “What’s going on?”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy sighed. “Fine. What’s this about you sleeping with Clarke? You guys having a sleepover or something? Watching <em> Pretty in Pink </em>and braiding each other’s hair?”</p><p> </p><p>“No,” Murphy couldn’t help but be a little smug. “She asked to come over here to have sex with me.”</p><p> </p><p>“What?” Bellamy asked, and there was something in his voice more than shock. If Murphy thought it was possible, it would’ve been jealousy. But Bellamy didn’t get jealous. Ever. </p><p> </p><p>“Yep,” he continued, not wanting to give the other room to disagree. “There’s just, uh, one small problem.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, come on,” Bellamy teased, “I bet it’s not <em> that </em>small. I mean, it’s probably not impressive or anything and definitely won’t be to Clarke, who might just laugh, but—”</p><p> </p><p>“This is not about my penis!” he burst out. </p><p> </p><p>Bellamy sucked on his teeth. “Murphy, the hot girl who I do not remember the name of is trying to sleep, and I’d prefer it if she wasn’t woken up again by you. This time screaming about your penis.”</p><p> </p><p>Murphy got a hold of himself. “That’s fair.”</p><p> </p><p>“So,” Bellamy drawled. “Besides every single thing in the universe that should prevent you and Clarke from sleeping together, what is it that you’re concerned about specifically?”<br/><br/></p><p>“I, uh,” he plowed through it, “I might still be dating Anya.”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy didn’t say anything for a long time, and just as Murphy was going to ask him, he said, probably mostly to himself, “I can’t believe you haven’t read the fucking Bro Code.”</p><p> </p><p>Murphy groaned. “What could The Bro Code possibly have to do with this situation?”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy didn’t even hesitate. “Nothing Good Happens After Two AM.”</p><p> </p><p>“I have never heard you say that before,” he protested.</p><p> </p><p>“Exactly,” the other scolded. “Because it is in The Bro Code.”</p><p> </p><p>“But you have sex all the time after two AM,” Murphy started to argue, but Bellamy cut him off with the tsking of his tongue.</p><p> </p><p>“I actually have said sex all the time after two AM. I do not plan, meet the person I’m planning to do it with or myself arrive or have them arrive after said time.”</p><p> </p><p>“Cause that’s different,” Murphy deadpanned.</p><p> </p><p>“It is <em> entirely </em> different,” Bellamy said stiffly. “And you’re proving my point perfectly with this situation.”</p><p> </p><p>“Shut up,” Murphy said. “I have to call Anya now and dump her. You’ve been zero help.”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy snorted. “Feel free to not call me when you fuck this up.”</p><p> </p><p>Murphy shook his head and called Anya. </p><p> </p><p>“Hello?” she answered, sleep evident in her voice.</p><p> </p><p>“Hi,” he gulped. This wasn’t going to be easy or fair to her, and he had no idea what to even say.</p><p> </p><p>“Murphy?” she asked. “The hell? Why are you calling me at almost three in the morning?”</p><p> </p><p>“I have to explain something to you,” he got out.</p><p> </p><p>“What?” he could hear her confusion. “We already talked things through, we’re fine. We’re just gonna slow down. I mean, you agreed with me that we were moving too fast and that we need to chill a bit.”</p><p> </p><p>Murphy swallowed. “About that…”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s okay, really,” she sighed. “It’s sweet that you’re so attentive. That you care so much about me and my feelings, but I don’t need you to be. I…”</p><p> </p><p>His head in his hands, he held in his sigh as Anya continued. God, he’d been gone for so long. Clarke probably took off. That, or…</p><p> </p><p>“What the fuck are you doing, Murphy?” Clarke asked. </p><p> </p><p>He looked up and actually gulped. Clarke shook her head and raised both of her brows and flicked her eyes to his phone in his hand. She was waiting for an answer. </p><p> </p><p>He turned away a bit and said into the phone, “Anya, can you let me—”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s Anya?” Clarke seethed. “No way.” She scoffed as she put it all together. “You’re not actually broken up, are you?”<br/><br/></p><p>He opened his mouth but nothing came out. So fast he couldn’t even begin to think of a way of stopping her, she snatched the phone out of his hand. </p><p> </p><p>“Anya?” she said and he shook his head repeatedly. Little good it did. “This is Clarke. Yeah, I’m at his place right now. Well, here’s the funny thing, he told me you guys were over.” She faked a girly laugh, one that made him almost shiver with fear. “I know! Isn’t that <em> hilarious</em>? Alright, I will. Have a good night.”</p><p> </p><p>She grinned and held out the phone to him. “She wants to talk to you.” And then Clarke turned on her heel and left the roof. </p><p> </p><p>He didn’t even get a word in with Anya. There was just a lot of cursing and threats. Most of which he thought she didn’t really intend to follow through on. But he vaguely thought about changing the locks on his and Monty’s apartment. </p><p> </p><p>“Oh,” she finished, “and in case this wasn’t clear, this is me dumping your ass!” </p><p> </p><p>She hung up before he even replied. </p><p> </p><p>Murphy went back down into the apartment, which he expected to find empty. Instead, Clarke was there. Fire in her eyes. Apparently, waiting for him. </p><p> </p><p>“Clarke—” but before he could get another word out, she interrupted.</p><p> </p><p>She was clearly stewing, just begging to explode. Murphy’d never seen her so angry. Not when her favorite hockey team lost against Monty’s, not when her mom forgot her birthday. Not ever. “I get to talk. Got it, asshole?”</p><p> </p><p>Murphy nodded, it seemed the wisest choice to refrain from speaking until she gave him permission. </p><p> </p><p>“How dare you, first of all,” she said. </p><p> </p><p>“I—” he couldn’t help it. He wanted to give her an answer. Even if it probably wouldn’t have been a good one.</p><p> </p><p>“I said,” she glared at him, “that I get to talk. So shut the hell up.”</p><p> </p><p>“Sorry,” he said, and then again, “And sorry for talking, just now, to say that I was sorry, which I am, of course.”</p><p> </p><p>Her lips quirked up at that, just the slightest bit. It was the only bit of hope Murphy had that maybe she wouldn’t hate him forever. If he could still make her laugh, then he might just have a shot of not losing one of his closest friends. </p><p> </p><p>“I am beyond pissed!” She crossed her arms over her chest and then uncrossed them. She paced around the room for a bit. Spitting out things like, “ass” and “lying shit,” and other words. Ones that he didn’t even know could be thought of as insulting until she said them with that in mind. Then she stopped pacing and pointed a finger at him. </p><p> </p><p>“You and Anya weren’t even broken up and yet you let me come over? You let me think that this was a good idea? You convinced me that...That this,” she gestured between the two of them, “was a good idea!” She scoffed. </p><p> </p><p>“So,” she jabbed the finger at him. Even though it was across the room, he felt like punches to the face had hurt less. “I just want you to know that whatever door might’ve been cracked open between us? It’s done. Shut forever. Might as well have never existed in the first place.” She let out a slow breath, and it was scarier than all the insults and shouting had been. “Now, do you understand? Or do I have to call you on your phone for you to get it?”</p><p> </p><p>“I get it,” he said. “I do, Clarke. And I’m sorry—”</p><p> </p><p>“Enough with the ‘I’m sorry’ shit!” And for the first time since she’d started yelling at him, she looked like she might cry. </p><p> </p><p>He had never seen Clarke almost cry before. </p><p> </p><p>She looked pissed about it though, so he didn’t even let his eyes dwell on it. He didn’t move forward to comfort her, even though that was all he wanted to do. He knew it wasn’t him who could comfort her then, either. She brushed at her still dry cheeks, angrily enough that Murphy knew no matter how close to tears she was, she was still mad. </p><p> </p><p>She managed, “You don’t get to tell me that you’re sorry when it’s your thoughtlessness that hurt me, Murphy.”</p><p> </p><p>He hung his head. He had made his bed. Now he had to lie in it. “I know.”</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t think we can be friends, after this,” she said.</p><p> </p><p>He looked up at her and tilted his head to the side. Murphy knew while he didn’t say anything, his face was begging for her to take it back. But she didn’t. </p><p> </p><p>“I’m sorry,” she shook her head. “I am, but I can’t do this.” She let out a shaky breath. “I can’t pretend that you didn’t totally screw me over like this.” Murphy stepped towards her but she took a step back, keeping them the same distance apart. “I can’t go to <em> Roma’s </em>and have a beer and make fun of Bellamy and act like it never happened. So. I’m sorry, but…” She nodded as if convincing herself. Maybe she was. “We’re done. As anything.”</p><p> </p><p>“Clarke—” he started. </p><p> </p><p>She turned before she got to the door, and for a second, he had this mad glimmer of hope that he could say something, anything, to make her see that they were meant to be in one another’s lives. He didn’t care if he never kissed her. He just wanted to be her friend. </p><p> </p><p>“Please, Murphy.” She rolled her eyes and smiled sadly, “Let me go.”</p><p> </p><p>And it was that that did it. The way she asked him to let her leave. He knew he didn’t have a right to ask her to stay. Not in the apartment. Certainly not in his life. So, he took a step back, and he nodded. </p><p> </p><p>Then she was gone. Murphy drank beer until he passed out on the couch. Half of him waiting. Hoping, really. That she would’ve changed her mind and come back.</p><p> </p><p>She didn’t. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>thank you for reading ❤︎</p><p>find me on tumblr (@animmortalist)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Fallout</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>hello loves. </p><p>I want to preface this update by acknowledging everything that is happening in the U.S. and protests that are currently occurring. I am aware of it and have been spreading awareness for black lives matter and helping in every way that I can. </p><p>that said, I have decided to post this chapter. I've really thought about this, both the harm and the good it could do. I've talked to several friends, fellow writers, and others, and feel I am the most-informed I can be before I post this. </p><p>with that in mind, I am in no way trying to offend anyone, the blm movement, or take away from the severity of it. I merely thought that perhaps this could provide a bit of solace. writing has continued to be an important outlet for me during this time, and I thought sharing it might do some good. </p><p>however, if you feel posting updates right now is insensitive or harmful, please let me know. I would prefer it if you contacted me on tumblr (@animmortalist) and let me know there instead of the comments. </p><p>thank you and sending all of my love to you. </p><p>now, to the lighter stuff! </p><p>this chapter follows the repercussions for Murphy of the previous one. there are some shenanigans and foolishness and a big development for Harper that could change everything.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Clarke and Murphy weren’t speaking after his dumbass messed up, and honestly, Bellamy wasn’t all that surprised. After Murphy told him everything that happened, he’d taken one long look at him. </p><p> </p><p>“What are you doing?” Murphy asked.</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy sighed. “Looking at a Dead Man Walking one last time before it’s all over for him.” He reached out and touched his face lightly. “It’s almost as if you’re still really here.”</p><p> </p><p>“Fuck you.” Murphy shoved him away and he gave him a small pout. Murphy just glared. “You’re an asshole.” </p><p> </p><p>Bellamy nodded and shrugged, he had a point, after all. </p><p> </p><p>“So,” he said as Murphy went to the kitchen to grab a beer. “You and Clarke really aren’t friends anymore?” </p><p> </p><p>He thought he was being sly, but Murphy shook his head. “Don’t even think about trying to sleep with her now.”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy placed a hand over his heart. “I would never.” Murphy raised a brow. “Fine,” he groaned. “I will not try to sleep with Clarke while she is in this clearly emotional state after you broke her heart.”</p><p> </p><p>“Thanks,” Murphy deadpanned. “I really appreciate your sensitivity.”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy nodded. “Of course, you do.”</p><p> </p><p>“What am I gonna do?” Murphy asked. “She won’t even talk to me.”</p><p> </p><p>He sighed. He knew Murphy deserved it, and Murphy knew it, too. Which made Bellamy’s plans all the more needed. </p><p> </p><p>“I’ve got a feeling she might turn around and forgive you yet,” Bellamy told him. </p><p> </p><p>Murphy grew alarmed. “Whatever you’re planning, end it right now.”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy shrugged. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”</p><p> </p><p>He scoffed. “You so do.”</p><p> </p><p>“I so don’t,” he fired back, as he reached into the fridge and got a beer of his own. “I was thinking about sleeping with Clarke again.”</p><p> </p><p>Murphy swatted at him. “Not funny.”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy shook his head. “You’re right. It’s <em> very </em>funny.”</p><p> </p><p>And Bellamy tried his best not to think about sleeping with Clarke, he did. But every time he thought he’d gotten rid of the thought once and for all, it came back up. It was annoying him, frankly. Clarke was hot, yes, but the city was filled with hot girls. Ones who weren’t strictly off-limits and wouldn’t care if he never called them. He focused on those kinds of girls. The kind that he usually went for because nothing ever seemed to matter with them. Other than the sex part. Clarke felt different, which he didn’t care for. At all. Since their Bro Night Out, and if he was honest, their kiss, there was something about Clarke that wouldn’t leave him alone. He wished he could figure out what it was.</p><p> </p><p>So that he could kill it and make sure it would never return. Like the last <em> Terminator </em>movie. </p><hr/><p>Harper wasn’t the kind of high school girl who gushed about prom, dreaming of a perfect night and a perfect date. The night of her senior prom she’d gotten drunk and raced shopping carts they stole from the Mini-Mart. Which made her and Bellamy and Clarke breaking into a high school prom all the more strange. </p><p> </p><p>“Remind me again why we have to break in through the bathroom window?” Clarke asked as Bellamy tried to help shove Harper through a very small opening. That sounded like the beginning of a dirty joke and she almost laughed. But then Bellamy pushed enough and she plopped down into the bathroom. </p><p> </p><p>“Because,” she said as Clarke insisted on Bellamy going before her, claiming that he’d just stare at her ass if she did. “One of the teachers breathalyzed me and I didn’t pass.”</p><p> </p><p>Once they were all in the bathroom, Bellamy snorted and extracted his flask from his jacket pocket. “You know it,” he raised his hand for a high-five. </p><p> </p><p>Harper rolled her eyes, but she was a bit tipsy, so she gave it to him. </p><p> </p><p>“Thank you guys for coming.” She sighed. “Monty has class, and I <em> have </em> to see this band live to know for sure I want them to play at the wedding.” She waved a hand. “He said that their video submission was enough, but it was <em> not </em>enough. Trust me. I need to feel their—”</p><p> </p><p>“If you say aura, I’m leaving,” Clarke told her. </p><p> </p><p>Harper narrowed her eyes and then she grinned. “Fine. Their vibe.”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke gagged. “You know I hate that word!”</p><p> </p><p>“Do you?” Harper teased. “I hadn’t realized.”</p><p> </p><p>“Catfight, catfight, catfight,” Bellamy cheered from where he was leaning on a sink. </p><p> </p><p>Both Harper and Clarke glared at him and he nodded solemnly. </p><p> </p><p>“Worth a shot though,” he said.</p><p> </p><p>“Was it really?” Clarke asked.</p><p> </p><p>He gave her a winning smile and she swatted at him. He went to tickle her at the waist but Harper interrupted before they could completely lose the point of the evening. Well, that, and it was kind of freaking her out. They were weird friends. But they were hers, and willingly came with her tonight. </p><p> </p><p>“Enough, we have a mission, after all.” To their credit, the two of them turned a bit more serious. She supposed that was the best she was going to get. </p><p> </p><p>Murphy wasn’t invited, which Harper felt bad about, but also knew he understood it was his fault. Some part of her had hope that he and Clarke would figure things out. Though they still hadn’t said a word to each other since it happened. Not everyone could communicate and be together with the ease of her and Monty. Okay, well, there was one thing she hadn’t told him yet. </p><p> </p><p>Harper, before she decided to become a science teacher, wanted to work at an elite conservation center in Alaska. Though she gave up that dream, she’d been rethinking things, imagining what her life had been like had she taken that risk. So, she’d recently applied for a six-month fellowship there. But she’d never get it, she assured herself. So, there was really no harm in not telling Monty. Yes, part of her knew that this was counter to her belief in their relationship, but a little white lie never hurt anyone. </p><p> </p><p>They left the bathroom and did their best to look as if they belonged with the crowd. Bellamy and Clarke made jokes about spiking the punch bowl, but Harper shot them a look that made them both pale in fear. Good. She didn’t need them messing up her one chance to watch the (maybe) wedding band of her dreams. </p><p> </p><p>Before the band came out, there was a DJ, which seemed a bit excessive for a high school prom. But whatever. This was the city. Bellamy teased Clarke about how a teacher was definitely checking her out and she called him gross for even noticing. </p><p> </p><p>When she went off to get some punch, Harper turned to Bellamy and asked, “What are you doing?”</p><p> </p><p>He shrugged. “I don’t know, usually you tell me.”</p><p> </p><p>“If you think just because she and Murphy are fighting right now that you can swoop in and take advantage while she’s hot and vulnerable and probably has low enough self-esteem to sleep with anyone, then I swear—”</p><p> </p><p>“Relax,” Bellamy replied. He straightened his tie. “I’m not trying to sleep with Clarke.”</p><p> </p><p>“You’re not,” Harper repeated, a little surprised. </p><p> </p><p>“Nope.” He smirked. “Because if I was, then I would already have her in the bathroom and we’d be—”</p><p> </p><p>She cut him off by kicking him in the shin. Lightly, okay? He barely felt it, she was sure. </p><p> </p><p>Bellamy rubbed his leg and looked at her with disgust. “No need to kick me, your in heels. Like I was saying, I’m not trying to sleep with her,” he clarified. “And even if she and Murphy aren’t friends right now, they will be soon.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, god.” Harper shook her head. “What are you planning?”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy played coy. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”</p><p> </p><p>She sighed, still not fully buying it. This was Bellamy. “Then why are you being so,” she waved her hands at him, “like this, with Clarke tonight?”</p><p> </p><p>He sucked on his teeth, and she expected some bullshit answer. Something that would confirm everything she knew about him. Probably more than a little skeevy and leaning towards pissing her off. </p><p> </p><p>Instead, though, he admitted, “Because she’s really upset about what happened with Murphy.” He looked away from Harper. “I don’t know, I guess I’m trying to get her mind off of it.”</p><p> </p><p>Harper softened. “Bellamy, I can’t believe it, but that’s sweet.”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy’s eyes were across the room though. “Sorry, I gotta go hit on that smoking hot teacher with the fake tits.” He looked over his shoulder. “Wanna bet how quick I can get her to give me her number?” </p><p> </p><p>She rolled her eyes and gave him a disapproving look. Not that that had ever stopped him before. There was something to what he said though before he messed it all up. It made Harper wonder if there wasn’t more to it than even he wanted to admit to himself. </p><p> </p><p>“What happened to Bellamy?” Clarke asked as she came back over. </p><p> </p><p>Harper shuddered. She’d seen Bellamy and that teacher disappear off towards the bathrooms. </p><p> </p><p>“That bad huh?” Clarke laughed. “God, what an idiot.”</p><p> </p><p>Harper couldn’t help herself. While she knew it wasn’t her place, she had to involve herself. It was calling out to her like a freaking siren’s song. </p><p> </p><p>“Speaking of idiots…” she started.</p><p> </p><p>Clarke held up a hand. “This night’s about you, okay? And possibly Bellamy and the foxy teacher. Let’s not go there.”</p><p> </p><p>“But—”</p><p> </p><p>“Harper,” she warned.</p><p> </p><p>“If you just saw that—”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke interrupted, “Never.”</p><p> </p><p>Harper accepted defeat. Until she didn’t. “That he’s so sorry and knows he fucked up and doesn’t want to lose you as a friend. He’ll do anything, believe me.” She managed to get it all out in one breath, not letting Clarke stop her this time. </p><p> </p><p>“I know all that,” Clarke replied. “But it doesn’t change what he did. Or how I feel.”</p><p> </p><p>Harper’s resolve softened. Clarke might not have wanted to discuss it, but she could tell she was more upset than she was letting on. If it was anyone else, she would’ve given her one of her award-winning hugs. That wasn’t really Clarke’s thing though, and she respected that. That only left one thing. A bit of tough love mixed with understanding. </p><p> </p><p>“You’re making a mistake by shutting him out like this,” she said.</p><p> </p><p>Clarke narrowed her eyes. “Because you’re an expert on the situation.”</p><p> </p><p>She allowed this. “Maybe not, but,” she added before Clarke could look too victorious. “I am an expert on Murphy. He may not always be the warmest guy, but he cares about you, Clarke. He wants to be your friend, and he knows he has a lot to do to earn your trust back, but he’ll do it. It’s just the kind of person he is. And if you can’t see that, then you never knew him at all.”</p><p> </p><p>For a moment, she figured Clarke would argue and maintain her previous statement. Ultimately, though, Harper’s words must have gotten through to her, because she relaxed and told her, “I don’t know if I can actually forgive him. Why should I even let him try if I can’t be sure of that?”</p><p> </p><p>Harper shrugged. “I think you just have to take that risk.”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke shook her head and then settled on, “I’ll try, okay? I can’t promise anything, but I’ll try.”</p><p> </p><p>She was satisfied with that, and then Bellamy came back over, straightening his jacket. Harper wrinkled her nose. He smelled like a cheap perfume that definitely wasn’t his. </p><p> </p><p>“Spare us the details,” she said.</p><p> </p><p>He grinned and winked at her. She wanted to kick him again.</p><p> </p><p>“Come on,” he turned to Clarke. “These teenagers are crap at dancing. Bet we can beat them, easy.”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke protested for a second. She gave in though and went off to the dancefloor with him just as the band came out. </p><p> </p><p>As Bellamy and Clarke danced obnoxiously with each other, Harper fell in love with the music. She knew this was the band for her and Monty. It felt good to have the reassurance that she really was making the right decision. Screw Alaska. They didn’t deserve her. Not like Monty did. Their relationship was way better than some fellowship. She felt their wedding would be amazing, was sure of it. </p><p> </p><p>And then her phone buzzed and she looked it at. It made her almost choke on her tongue. The notification was right there, blaring at her. But she had to read it three times until it settled in and became real. </p><p> </p><p>She got the fellowship in Alaska. </p><hr/><p>As soon as Clarke got to the bar, and saw Murphy there, looking alarmed by her presence, she went to storm out. But Bellamy stopped her, standing in her path to freedom. </p><p> </p><p>“Give him a chance to say what he wants to say,” he said.</p><p> </p><p>She shook her head. “No way.”</p><p> </p><p>Maybe she lied to Harper to get her off her back. Or maybe she didn’t and wanted to give Murphy a chance, but didn’t know how to. </p><p> </p><p>Bellamy considered this. “Fair,” but followed it with, “then give me a chance to enact this amazing plan I designed.”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke rolled her eyes. “You told both of us to come here while assuring us that the other wouldn’t be here.”</p><p> </p><p>He scoffed. “That’s only phase-one, baby, now come on.” As much as she fought against it, she let him turn her around and steer her back to their booth. </p><p> </p><p>Once she was sitting in the booth across from Murphy, the silence that settled between the three of them threatened an explosive fight. Mostly from her end. Murphy seemed pitiful, which did make her feel triumphant. Like Harper and Bellamy had said, he did feel awful. She knew that, but it also was important he be scared of her right now. If, <em>if </em>she was going to let him speak to her again. </p><p> </p><p>She looked over at Bellamy. “What’s phase two?”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m glad you asked,” he replied. “It’s booze.” And then he got up to get them a round, which left her and Murphy alone with each other for the first time since everything happened. </p><p> </p><p>The silence was even worse than she could’ve imagined. </p><p> </p><p>He opened his mouth to say something, but she already knew what it was. </p><p> </p><p>“If you say you’re sorry again, I’ll leave,” she interrupted. </p><p> </p><p>Murphy swallowed thickly but, thankfully, didn’t tell her those dreaded words. Clarke didn’t know if she could stomach hearing them one more time. The worst part was, it wasn’t only what he did, but what she’d done too. She had gone over to his place without even thinking about it. Without concern for Anya or Murphy. She’d done it for herself. He wasn’t the only one who had messed up that night, though hers didn’t have as much of a dumbass effect.</p><p> </p><p>“Okay, I won’t,” he said. “I fucked up, and I know I don’t deserve a chance to make it right.”</p><p> </p><p>She jutted out her chin. “But?”</p><p> </p><p>“But.” He sighed. “I want that chance. More than anything. You’re one of my best friends, and you have every right to be pissed and hate me and never want to see me again. I promise though, if you decide to let me try, I will do anything to earn your friendship back.”</p><p> </p><p>“My friendship?” she couldn’t help but ask.</p><p> </p><p>After all, she finally admitted to herself that she might have less than platonic feelings for Murphy. And even though she knew she shouldn’t, she still kind of did. It was stupid though. Things couldn’t happen now, she told herself. She’d be pathetic to let it. </p><p> </p><p>Murphy didn’t seem thrown by the question though, which convinced her that he really did believe she was done with him in that way. <em> Because you are </em>, she thought. If anything, he seemed to have expected it. </p><p> </p><p>He nodded solemnly. “Yes, that’s all I want. And it’s all I will ever try to have with you, I swear.”</p><p> </p><p>It was meant to reassure her, she was pretty sure. But it didn’t, as much as she hated to admit it. Mostly because it felt wrong and stupid and childish to want him to tell her he still wanted more. She couldn’t be sure what she would’ve said even if he had. Probably not something encouraging. It was for the best, really. That he was done with that. It meant she could be done, too. </p><p> </p><p>“You do look pretty pathetic,” she said.</p><p> </p><p>He smiled the slightest bit, even though she wasn’t sure she meant it as a joke. “If it helps, I definitely feel it.”</p><p> </p><p>Her lips lifted, almost against her will. “It does,” she found herself saying, in a tone that could be described as teasing. “And I guess I haven’t really given you a chance to explain.”</p><p> </p><p>“You want me to?” he asked, taken aback.</p><p> </p><p>She shrugged. “I don’t know. It could piss me off even more, but…” she trailed off. “I’m willing to let you try.”</p><p> </p><p>“I really did think me and Anya were over,” he said. “Our fight...It was about you, okay?” Her surprise must’ve registered on her face, because he continued, “It was about me and my feelings for you. Not,” he went on, “that I’m expecting anything on that front. Or even asking. Anyway, we fought and then you called and...I didn’t want to hurt anyone. But I guess I...I wanted you so badly, I wasn’t thinking about how much I could hurt you and Anya.” He looked down and then back up at her. “I was only thinking about myself.”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke wasn’t sure how to reply to that. Well, she knew she wanted to forgive him. But she fought against the urge. It felt too easy, to just let go of the betrayal and the shit he’d pulled like that. </p><p> </p><p>“Thank you,” she settled on. “For telling me the truth.”</p><p> </p><p>He nodded. “I wish I’d done it sooner.”</p><p> </p><p>“Me too,” she said. </p><p> </p><p>He looked as if he was preparing himself for her to deal the final blow in their friendship. As if she was going to end it, once and for all. It was that complete lack of hope that made her see she couldn’t do it. Murphy had owned up to his shit. Even though he’d hurt her, he wanted to make up for it. And also…</p><p> </p><p>“You’re a good friend.” He was shocked, so she was able to go on without interruption. “When you’re thinking with your head and not your dick.”</p><p> </p><p>He huffed out a laugh, “Yeah, sounds about right.”</p><p> </p><p>“But okay.” She swallowed. “We can be friends.” She pointed at him. “But just friends, alright?”</p><p> </p><p>He raised up his palms from the table. “That’s all I want.”</p><p> </p><p>She let herself smile. “Then it’s good to have you back, <em> friend </em>.”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s good to have you back, too.” He returned her smile with one of his own, and she could sense the relief there as well. It felt good, to know he cared that much about having her in his life. </p><p> </p><p>“So?” Bellamy asked, appearing with their drinks at last. That conniver. He most definitely got their drinks a whole sappy conversation ago. “Are we gonna cheers to friendship or is Clarke gonna throw this,” he handed her a drink, “in Murphy’s face?”</p><p> </p><p>“Is there a third option?” Murphy asked. Bellamy looked a bit concerned, but Murphy followed that with, “Because one of those we already did, and the other one sounds cheesy as hell.”</p><p> </p><p>“My three-phase plan worked, I see,” Bellamy said, contented as he took a seat beside Clarke. “I’ll text Monty and Harper that the emotional bomb has been defused.”</p><p> </p><p>Murphy rolled his eyes, and Clarke grinned, but he did brighten when Monty and Harper came in and took their seats. </p><p> </p><p>Monty took one look at them and breathed out a sigh, the tension Clarke didn’t know he was holding go out of his shoulders. </p><p> </p><p>“Thank god,” Monty told them. “Harper and I thought we were gonna have to start day-drinking because of the stress.”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy patted Monty’s hand. “No need to call me god. Bellamy’s fine.”</p><p> </p><p>Monty drew his hand away from him and fired back, “Please. You’d be the worst god ever.” </p><p> </p><p>Bellamy tilted his head to the side. “More like the best. I mean, it would be fitting, given how many lays Zeus had.”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke shoved his shoulder. “Including some kind of bird.”</p><p> </p><p>Harper snorted and Murphy waggled his brows at Bellamy, who didn’t even have a comeback to that. </p><p> </p><p>Monty started in on a story from Law School and everyone became enraptured as he explained how there was definitely a Victorian ghost boy attending his seminars. Clarke and Bellamy teased him, of course. But Harper offered support to counteract it. She <em> really </em>maintained she’d been haunted her entire sophomore year of college. At one point, Clarke and Murphy got each other’s eye, and she nodded. He grinned back and sipped at his beer. As weird as it all still felt, she was grateful to have things back to normal. </p><p> </p><p>Despite that, Clarke couldn’t deny that maybe a tiny part of her wasn’t a bit disappointed that Murphy hadn’t tried to win her back as more than strictly a friend. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>thank you for reading ❤︎</p><p>find me on tumblr (@animmortalist)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. This Modern Love (It Kills Me)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>here's another chapter! we pick up with the aftermath of Clarke's confusion following her and Murphy's talk and deal with Harper making an important decision. this one is filled with changes for the entire group, some good, and some...rather heartbreaking. </p><p>*chapter title from 'This Modern Love' by Bloc Party*</p><p>I hope you enjoy and sending all my love to you 💖</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Clarke lost it a little in the week after she and Murphy made up. </p><p> </p><p>It wasn’t as if she intended to lose it. It sort of happened all on its own, though she knew she was partly responsible for her actions. Partly. She wasn’t willing to take all of the blame. Not when she felt positive some of it definitely had to be Murphy’s doing. He was the one that led to it all, really. </p><p> </p><p>It was his fault that she felt the need to dress kind of slutty whenever they went to the bar, even though she was exhausted from work. As was when she touched his arm every time he so much as opened his mouth and giggled like a fool at even his lamest of jokes. And he was definitely entirely to blame for Clarke suddenly taking an interest in <em> Food &amp; Wine </em>magazine. Really, she was the victim here.</p><p> </p><p>Okay, so maybe that was taking it a bit far. </p><p> </p><p>Still. She deserved some amount of credit. Maybe. Or, at least, she hoped she did. If only because she didn’t intend to make things weird for everyone else. She didn’t even realize she had until Monty and Harper sat her down at <em> Roma </em>’s, having lied to her that it would be an entire group thing. Instead, it was an intervention. </p><p> </p><p>“What’s wrong with you?” Harper asked, plowing right into the conversation, which only led Clarke to pretend she didn’t know what she was talking about. </p><p> </p><p>She shrugged and sipped at her drink. “Don’t know what you mean. I mean, yes, I have my faults, as any one human being does, but I don’t think—”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, no,” Monty said, cutting her off with an unimpressed look. “We are not so easily distracted.”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke deflated for a minute until she got an idea. “If I pay for nachos can we delay this conversation by twenty minutes?”</p><p> </p><p>Harper and Monty looked at one another. He raised his brows, and she hesitated but ultimately nodded. </p><p> </p><p>Monty turned back to her. “Fine, deal. But it has to be the loaded ones.”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke agreed, and for twenty-one and a half minutes, it worked. She didn’t have to acknowledge her strange, bordering on sinister behavior when it came to Murphy. They talked about Monty’s classes and Harper’s students, which she was cagey about for some reason. But then he took a sip of his beer and nudged Harper, who wiped off her hands with a napkin and then threw it at her.</p><p> </p><p>“Great, it’s been over twenty-minutes, so we’ve been more than generous with aiding your denial. Now we get to grill you.” She sounded far too excited by the prospect.</p><p> </p><p>“Wow, don’t hold back.” Clarke huffed out, “I really don’t know what the big deal is.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, you do,” Harper argued. She looked over at Monty. “Doesn’t she?”</p><p> </p><p>She shot a glare at Monty, but knew already it wouldn’t do her any good. The combined force of the two of them was too much for even her to try and go up against. Seriously, she’d never encountered such a steady couple. Or, at least in the moment, a more annoying, meddling one. </p><p> </p><p>“Oh, she does,” he finished. </p><p> </p><p>Clarke decided she hated them </p><p> </p><p>She crossed her arms over her chest and asked, “Is it really that big of a deal?”</p><p> </p><p>Monty shook his head that he thought so and Harper sighed.</p><p> </p><p>“Clarke,” she told her, condescension dripping from her tone. “Last night, you were flirting so blatantly you made Bellamy uncomfortable. <em> Bellamy </em>! I mean, I don’t get it. A week ago you didn’t even want to speak to Murphy, and now you’re acting like a twelve-year-old girl with a crush who pretends she doesn’t exist.”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s not that bad!” she protested but understood that it was no use when the two of them just stared her down. </p><p> </p><p>Maybe it was time to admit to herself that it really <em> was </em>that bad. But that meant acknowledging that she might want to be with Murphy. Even after he’d screwed up and the idea had been dismissed entirely. She wasn’t sure she was ready for that. </p><p> </p><p>Harper and Monty seemed to sense it.</p><p> </p><p>“Are you sure?” Harper questioned, furrowing her brow. “Because we sure as hell aren’t. And while he hasn’t said anything, I’m betting Bellamy feels the same way. And you know it’s bad when Bellamy’s in touch with the tumultuous emotions of the constant ebb and flow of the you and Murphy situation.”</p><p> </p><p>She shook her head. “I can’t,” she explained. “I can’t want that. It doesn’t make any sense.”</p><p> </p><p>It was the truth, at least part of it. Clarke couldn’t let herself want to be with Murphy. He was a friend. Not just a friend. A really good one. She didn’t want to lose him, she found. And she knew herself. She’d fuck it up. Even if he might’ve believed otherwise, she was sure of it. Though it seemed he didn’t believe otherwise, given how he accepted (and didn’t ask for anything except) her friendship. </p><p> </p><p>Monty smiled softly, and she felt her heart sink with it. “That’s not how it works.”</p><p> </p><p>She felt like stomping her foot. “Well, it should. I mean, this is idiotic. Beyond idiotic.” She drained some of her beer before adding, “I don’t even know <em> why </em>I want him. Isn’t that reason enough to not do anything about it?”</p><p> </p><p>Harper bit her lip. “Maybe it is.” Monty shot her look at this, but for once, she actually ignored him. “I don’t want you to hurt him, you know? But I also don’t want you to hurt yourself.”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke had to protest that idea. “I’m not hurting myself. I’m fine.”</p><p> </p><p>Monty raised his brows. “Right. Because of laughing hysterically at one of Murphy’s tired sex jokes, which, seriously, he’s made that exact one three times before around you, is a clear sign that you’re just fine.”</p><p> </p><p>She swallowed. “I can ignore it.”</p><p> </p><p>“But should you?” Harper got out. “I mean, you have this amazing thing before you. An opportunity unlike anything else that you’ve ever experienced, and you’re just gonna throw it away? Because what? You’re scared?” As her voice took on a different tone, Clarke had the suspicion that maybe Harper was talking about something else. But she didn’t have the room to get even a word in, because she kept going. </p><p> </p><p>“That’s ridiculous, Clarke. You can’t just deny yourself your dreams.” Harper let out a breath and gestured with her hand. “The ones you haven’t even allowed yourself to consider in years. All because you’re frightened of change.”</p><p> </p><p>Harper almost looked on the verge of tears now, and Clarke nor Monty seemed to know what to do. “Life is about change, and if you can’t take the risks that are laid out in front of you, then what’s the point?”</p><p> </p><p>“Harper—” Clarke started, unsure of where she was even going with it. </p><p> </p><p>Monty cut her off. “Babe, what’s the matter? Is it stress because of the wedding?” </p><p> </p><p>She suddenly felt very self-conscious, and as if this was a conversation she wasn’t meant to hear. Before she could make her escape though, Harper dropped the metaphorical bomb on their lives. </p><p> </p><p>“I got a fellowship at that conservation place in Alaska,” she said. Monty paled and never looked so confused. </p><p> </p><p>Eventually, he nodded though, and managed a smile. “That’s amazing. I mean, it’ll suck being apart after being married, but we’ll make it work and—”</p><p> </p><p>Harper let out a shaky breath. She hesitated, but got out, “It’s for six months.” Another breath. “And it starts next week.”</p><p> </p><p>Monty blinked at her and Clarke sank further and further into her side of the booth. She wished she was anywhere but there at that moment. Even if she wasn’t great at dealing with her own emotions, she could sense what was coming. It just sucked that Monty couldn’t. </p><p> </p><p>“But our wedding is in two months,” he said. </p><p> </p><p>Still not getting it, even though the way Harper looked over at Clarke told her he was the only one. </p><p> </p><p>Harper looked down at her hands before back up at him. It seemed as if the bar had gone quiet, though Clarke knew that wasn’t possible. She didn’t know what to do with the mess of emotions that hit her. Anger at Harper. Hurt for Monty. But understanding, too. Maybe Harper was right when it came to both of their lives. And she was going to chase her dream, she couldn’t fault her for that. Not completely. </p><p> </p><p>Though Clarke could tell it almost killed her to do it, Harper told him, “I took it. I’m going to Alaska, Monty.” </p><p> </p><p>Monty sat there, stunned, and didn’t say anything. At least, not that Clarke heard. She knew it was bad form, alright? But she got the hell out of there the second there was an opening. It was hard enough dealing with her own shit, let alone her friends’. </p><p> </p><p>If only she could be like Harper. Be brave. Be bold. Go for things instead of hiding from them. She wasn’t like that with her job, she didn’t think. But her friend was right. When it came to relationships, she always played it safe. </p><p> </p><p>As she got back to her place, tossing her jacket on the couch, she sighed. What the hell was she going to do? </p>
<hr/><p>Monty was still in shock, he was pretty sure, from the boom Harper used to explode his life. Minutes ago, he’d been so sure of his life. Enough that he felt confident in telling Clarke how she was screwing up her own. Now, he didn’t know. What was his life without Harper in it? </p><p> </p><p>The thought seemed absurd and sensible at the same time. On the one hand, he couldn’t believe that she was leaving him before their wedding. On the other, he couldn’t see how she was telling him anything else by taking the fellowship. </p><p> </p><p>“Harper.” He swallowed. “I’ll come with you, okay? I’ll defer my final semester of school. We’ll push back the wedding a year or so, and it’ll be fine. My mom will be...My mom, but I don’t care alright? So we’ll get some cute cabin and I’ll try to be offended I can’t grow a beard and you’ll follow your dream. It’ll be fun. An adventure.”</p><p> </p><p>Even as he said the words though, he knew that that wasn’t going to happen. As much as he wanted it to, he could see it on her face. They’d been together for over half a decade. After that, you learned the person who you loved’s faces. Learned what their mannerisms meant. When to give comfort. When to know a fight was coming. The worst part was, she didn’t want to fight. And neither did he. Not in their booth. Not ever. It was horrible, but he wanted it to be done before either one of them even said the words. </p><p> </p><p>Mostly because, even as he sensed she was breaking up with him, he still wanted to marry her more than he ever wanted anything else in his entire life. </p><p> </p><p>“Monty…” her voice broke and she couldn’t keep going. </p><p> </p><p>Which is when the pain turned to anger. He didn’t like the part of himself that gave way to it. The part that sought refuge in it. But that didn’t change anything. It still happened. </p><p> </p><p>“Why are you doing this to us?” he demanded. “Why now? Everything is...Everything <em> was </em>amazing and you’re ruining it. Why?”</p><p> </p><p>Harper wanted to explain, he could tell that she did. But he also knew that no matter what she said, it wouldn’t be enough. It wouldn’t un-wreck their relationship. And it wouldn’t unbreak his heart. </p><p> </p><p>“I have to do this,” she said. “I know it might not make sense to you, but you’re achieving your dream. You’re gonna be this amazing Environmental Lawyer. And what am I gonna have? I love my students, I do. But I need to do this, Monty. Or I’ll always regret it. And...” she trailed off. “I need to do it alone.”</p><p> </p><p>Monty nodded. “Then I don’t want to wait a week. I want you to move out tonight.”</p><p> </p><p>“I still—”</p><p> </p><p>He sowled and fought the wave of nausea that hit him. “If you say you still love me after that, then I’m gonna be sick.”</p><p> </p><p>She nodded. “You’re right. I’m so—”</p><p> </p><p>“And don’t say you’re sorry either,” he burst out. “Just...Go. Go pack up your stuff. Go get the hell out of my life.”</p><p> </p><p>Thankfully, either she sensed he really was done or didn’t have it in her to argue. Because she went without another word. A look he didn’t end up seeing, one filled with regret and pain. Once she was gone, Monty ordered a beer. And then another one. But he knew no amount of alcohol in the world would fill the hole in his life she left in her wake. </p>
<hr/><p>Murphy was out for a walk. To clear his head, he told himself. After Bellamy flippantly said that Clarke was being a little much with the flirting. With <em> Murphy </em>—he couldn’t believe his words. Pretty sure his jaw dropped all the way to the floor once they registered.</p><p> </p><p>For some reason, Bellamy tried to backpedal. Explain that Clarke wasn’t actually hitting on him at all. That she was just being weird probably because she’d finally caved and watched <em> The Notebook</em>. Murphy didn’t get the truth of it until later.</p><p> </p><p>She was in love with him, and he should’ve seen it sooner, but thank god for Bellamy.</p><p> </p><p>And of course, she had sworn the rest of them to secrecy out of fear and shame. Bellamy was only trying to help a fellow bro, which he couldn’t fault him for. He also couldn’t get the idea out of his head though. Clarke was beyond hinting that she wanted to be with him. She was practically throwing it in his face. Because she loved him. Maybe. He never imagined it would happen, especially after the disastrous night when he was still with Anya, but here it was, happening.</p><p> </p><p>Hence the walk. </p><p> </p><p>He didn’t invite Bellamy, but he came regardless. </p><p> </p><p>“You do realize you’re fucked no matter what you do, right?” Bellamy asked as they continued to make their way through the park. “There’s no way you actually make this happen.”</p><p> </p><p>Murphy shot him a glare. But he was right. He needed to come up with a way to get with Clarke that wouldn’t immediately explode the minute he made a move. </p><p> </p><p>It didn’t help that she was meant to go on a camping trip for work that night. One with her boss who hadn’t stopped hitting on her since she started. A trip where said boss had been promising for weeks would lead to sex. Murphy knew, if he was gonna act, it had to be <em> now</em>. </p><p> </p><p>Which led him to the only understandable conclusion.</p><p> </p><p>“I have to make it rain,” he said. </p><p> </p><p>“What?” Bellamy shook his head. He groaned, “Oh, you’ve officially lost it, haven’t you, you poor thing.”</p><p> </p><p>Murphy brushed off his fake-concern. “No, I have not lost it. I have to stop Clarke from going on that trip.” He nodded, becoming more and more sure of his plan. “And I need a romantic gesture to show her how much I care about her. To show her that she should give us a chance.” He pointed at the cloudless blue sky. “Thus, rain!”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy really looked at him as he’d lost it then. But even that was before he started his rain dance.</p><p> </p><p>For a solid forty-five minutes, Murphy did the apparent rain dance, making quite the spectacle of himself in the packed park. A history student studying in the park corrected his form and joined him for a bit before she had to get back to her friends. All in all, it was probably the most dumbass move he had ever pulled. But he was desperate. He and Clarke were supposed to be something. He felt it. And if he could make it rain, then she was going to feel it too. </p><p> </p><p>“Nothing to see here,” Bellamy told a group of passing tourists as they whispered about Murphy. “This young man has just lost his mind, is all.”</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t care!” Murphy said, not pausing his movements. “Your insults do not impact me!”</p><p> </p><p>“Good to know your self-esteem is somehow still intact.” Bellamy lounged on a nearby bench. He paused before saying, “You believe in signs so goddamn much, ever think this is one?”</p><p> </p><p>Murphy did halt then, as it dawned on him that maybe he had been wrong this whole time about him and Clarke. It was the worst feeling, worse than he could’ve imagined. “You really think so?”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy shrugged. “What do <em> you </em>think?”</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I thought...I thought Clarke and me could be something important.”</p><p> </p><p>“And yet,” Bellamy pointed to the still blue sky, “fate seems to have other ideas.”</p><p> </p><p>He swallowed. “You really think there’s no hope?”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy sighed. “I don’t know. But if there was, wouldn’t you know about it? You think about her all the time, try endlessly to make her laugh and happy and all that lame bullshit. You’ve more than shown your own hand. Wouldn’t she actually just tell you if she loved you?”</p><p> </p><p>It made sense. If Clarke really did want to be with him, all she had to do was say it. Since when was love ever that easy though? But then again, Murphy had been here before with her. And was possibly losing her friendship worth it? The doubts eclipsed all the hope he’d previously had. </p><p> </p><p>He sat down on the bench beside Bellamy. “You’re probably right.”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy offered as much of a sympathetic smile as he’d ever seen from him. “For the record, I don’t think I want to be.”</p><p> </p><p>Murphy nodded. “Wanna go get drunk?”</p><p> </p><p>“I’d love nothing more,” he replied. </p><p> </p><p>Before they could get up though, something happened. </p><p> </p><p>It started to rain.</p><p> </p><p>It was then that he knew it for certain. He and Clarke were gonna be something important. All that doubt. All that second-guessing and questioning and fear. It washed away. </p><p> </p><p>Bellamy glared up at the sky. “You gotta be fucking kidding me.”</p><p> </p><p>“Sorry.” Murphy clapped him on the shoulder as the rain picked up. Then he bounded up and off the bench. “I have to go to Clarke. I have to—”</p><p> </p><p>He rolled his eyes and held up a hand. “Yeah, I know.”</p><p> </p><p>There was something to Bellamy’s tone that made Murphy pause. Like maybe he wasn't as thrilled as he should've been for him, now that he might finally have a chance with Clarke. But it couldn't stop him for long. He made it rain. He had to let Clarke know. </p><p> </p><p>He couldn’t contain his energy as he called up an Uber. And couldn’t believe his eyes when he saw who it was. That kid Jasper, the one who’d given Murphy his ride to Clarke’s place all those months ago. </p><p> </p><p>“If you don’t talk, I’ll tip triple!” he said before Jasper even got out a word as he practically dove into the car. </p><p> </p><p>He shrugged and sped off in the direction of Clarke’s place. Like he somehow knew that this was important. That he had to get there as soon as possible, or it wouldn’t work. </p><p> </p><p>When they got to her place, it was still pouring, which he took as a good sign. One of hope. He still had a chance to do this right. </p><p> </p><p>He called Clarke.</p><p> </p><p>“Hello?” she answered.</p><p> </p><p>“Look out your window,” Murphy got out, a little breathless, staring up at her building.  </p><p> </p><p>“What?” she asked.</p><p> </p><p>He rolled his eyes. “Dammnit, Griffin, just do it.”</p><p> </p><p>She did and laughed as she took him in, completely soaked and grinning up at her. “What are you doing?”</p><p> </p><p>“I made it rain!” he yelled, much to the annoyance of a passing pedestrian, who flipped him off. </p><p> </p><p>“What does that mean?” she asked, but she was smiling, and he felt, even if she didn’t get it completely, some piece of her knew that this was their beginning. Their real one. </p><p> </p><p>“I love you!” he said, because this time, he knew, it was the right thing to say.</p><p> </p><p>She shook her head and rolled her eyes. For a moment, he doubted himself. And her. And just about everything he’d ever known to be true in this world. </p><p> </p><p>But then she smiled, and said, “You’re not just saying that to get laid?”</p><p> </p><p>He shook his head. </p><p> </p><p>She nodded. “Come up!”</p><p> </p><p>“Nope!” he yelled. She frowned. “You have to come down!”</p><p> </p><p>“Murphy,” she started. “It’s pouring outside. Just come up here.”</p><p> </p><p>He didn’t know why, but he refused again. “You gotta come down here, believe me.”</p><p> </p><p>She bit her lip, and he didn’t think she’d do it. But then, another miracle. </p><p> </p><p>“Okay!” She laughed, seemingly at herself. “I’ll come down!”</p><p> </p><p>Murphy couldn’t wait for her though, once she was out of sight. He raced up the steps of her apartment. As she threw open her front door, he reached it. She looked at him and grinned. </p><p> </p><p>“I really was gonna come down,” Clarke said. </p><p> </p><p>He nodded, feeling stunned even though nothing had happened yet. “I know.”</p><p> </p><p>And then he kissed her. </p><p> </p><p>She moved backward through her apartment, toward the bed behind a bookcase. They stumbled over the occasional shoe and it occurred to him that Clarke was a bit of a slob. The studio was sort of nice, he thought. Though, really, he wasn’t paying much attention to the apartment. </p><p> </p><p>Clothes were tossed off in a hurry, and even though he knew a storm was raging outside, he could barely hear it. Not when Clarke’s hands were warm as they dug into every piece of skin they could find. Her lips searing against his own. He knew it might’ve been corny, and never would’ve actually said to her, but it was one of the best damn kisses he’d ever had. </p><p> </p><p>“You sure?” he asked, even as she unbuttoned her jeans and kicked them off.</p><p> </p><p>She raised her brows. “Are you sure?” Her voice was teasing, and he scoffed. </p><p> </p><p>“Asshole,” he said, and pushed her down onto the bed. </p><p> </p><p>Clarke laughed as she did away with her remaining clothes. “You love it, remember? You love me.” She was so smug, he rolled his eyes. But he didn’t have enough power to stop himself from leaning down on top of her, kissing her again. Even more intense this time, if that was possible.</p><p> </p><p>She pulled him fully against her and gasped into his mouth as he slid inside her. He wanted to capture that sound and use it as something ridiculous. Like his ringtone. </p><p> </p><p>After that, there wasn’t much talking. Only their moans and occasional breathless exclamations as they moved together. The way her nails dug into his shoulders, and he gripped her hips rougher than he usually did with anyone else. She was so good, and he told her, and she seemed to get off on that, too. So he kept telling her. </p><p> </p><p>It wasn’t all perfect but damn, pretty close. </p><p> </p><p>After, they laughed about how his clothes were going to reek from the rain. She teased him that he probably would never even wash them, given that they were now sacred. He found a way to shut her up though. One that had her grasping at her sheets and his name. </p><p> </p><p>The next morning, he took the Subway back to his place after kissing Clarke goodbye. A promise for more. Murphy didn’t know if it was possible to feel this happy. To have his life make this much sense. For years, he felt as if he was floating through his life. Now that he was with Clarke, he thought he might actually be living it. </p><p> </p><p>But at that exact moment, he found Monty on their front stoop. When Monty saw him, he held up the engagement ring he’d given to Harper and shook his head. That told Murphy almost everything he needed to know. </p><p> </p><p>Fuck his own happiness, he thought, and he took a seat beside his friend, and let him tell him what the hell happened. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>thank you so much for reading ❤︎</p><p>find me on tumblr (@animmortalist)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Not a Freaking Fairytale</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>hello, lovelies!! here's chapter seven for you. this one gets into the tumultuous relationship between Clarke and Murphy as well as some much-needed bonding for Bellamy and Monty. </p><p>since I promised a couple of you I would have this worked out by this update, I'm ready to tell you how I'll be navigating this fic moving forward. some of you have concerns about the endgames for the fic, which I definitely am completely sympathetic to. in the desire to be understanding to all readers, I've decided to reveal the endgames of the fic to you, but only if you'd like. </p><p>the way I'll go about this is through dms on tumblr. I am over @animmortalist. basically, if you'd like to know the endgames for the fic, just shoot me a message and I'll let you know. the only thing I ask, and I am going to be really serious about this and hope everyone understands and follows this rule, is to not reveal the endgame in the comments on here or any other platform like twitter or tumblr. this is to keep it a secret for the people who want to be surprised or just follow the story where it goes. </p><p>I hope that makes sense and please let me know if you have any questions about that. really, this was something I was always thinking of when I started the fic, so it is in no way me giving in to pressure or changing my plan for the story. I just want to be understanding to my readers. </p><p>another important note and then I promise I'll shut up haha. no one is obligated to like my stuff, and you're more than valid for liking what you like. feedback is always appreciated, but please keep any hate to yourself. it is helpful to no one. </p><p>all of that said, thank you so much for being an amazing audience and looking forward to going on this long (like super freakin' long) journey with you. sending all my love 💖💜💙</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Bellamy drained his scotch as Murphy and Clarke came into the bar. They were fighting. Again. Whoever said that crap about the honeymoon period had been lying. It definitely did not exist. Not that their bickering stopped them from being all couple-y in front of him. As soon as they made-up, they were back to being unbearable. Which he only took offense to because he was abrasive to all couples.</p><p> </p><p>Absolutely no other reason. </p><p> </p><p>He still couldn’t believe it. That Clarke had gotten together with Murphy, even after months of claiming she wanted nothing from him other than friendship. But now, they were a couple. An annoying one, at that. Bellamy wished things could go back to how they’d been before. He’d always hated change and told himself that this was the biggest issue he had with the relationship. Anything else...Well, he figured it was best to ignore those feelings. Even better, stomp (or drink) them out of existence. </p><p> </p><p>“You’re such a dick,” Murphy told Clarke as they took their seats. He sank into his so he was as far from her as he could get. Which meant he was practically on top of Bellamy. </p><p> </p><p>She flashed him a fake smile and crossed her arms over her chest. “Not as much as you’re a selfish prick.”</p><p> </p><p>Honestly, Bellamy knew he wasn’t exactly a <em> good </em>person, but he didn’t think he deserved this.</p><p> </p><p>“Bellamy,” Murphy started, but he cut him off before he could say anything else.</p><p> </p><p>“No way am I getting in the middle of one of your endless couple squabbles.” He shook his head and shuddered a bit. “I’m still recovering from the last one.”</p><p> </p><p>“It wasn’t that bad,” Murphy argued. “I mean, are you really gonna miss that random strip club that much? It’s only your fifth favorite one!”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s the principle of the thing,” he told him. “And I can’t believe you would talk about <em> The Tender Trap </em>like that!”</p><p> </p><p>Murphy raised his brows like he was disappointed. Which felt wrong, and kind of pissed him off. If anything, Bellamy was the one who should’ve been making Murphy feel ashamed. </p><p> </p><p>Clarke agreed with Murphy, because...Of course, she did. Like he said, when they weren’t fighting, they were all annoying and together and ganging up on him. </p><p> </p><p>“Exactly,” she gestured with a hand, “and this time we’re just having a slight disagreement and need you to help decide who is right.”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy snorted. “That’s the problem. Hell no. You can count me out.” </p><p> </p><p>He sipped from his scotch, hoping this would kill the conversation. Maybe they’d leave him alone and he could flirt with Roma or something. Get his mind off their idiocy. Though them leaving probably would entail them going home together, and he didn’t like the idea of that any more than them staying. </p><p> </p><p>“Please,” Clarke asked.</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy cut her a sneer, but eventually, he gave in and sighed. “If I agree to settle your fight, you have to promise not to gang up on me.” He glanced at Murphy, who nodded. He rolled his eyes and knew he was going to regret this. “Tell me what stupidity has you feuding this time?”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke and Murphy looked at one another and it made him feel itchy all over. Fucking hell. He <em> hated </em> couples. </p><p> </p><p>“Go ahead,” Murphy offered.</p><p> </p><p>So, Clarke relaxed a little and said, “Band or DJ?”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy frowned. It took him a moment to realize she was serious. “What?”</p><p> </p><p>Murphy huffed as if he wasn’t getting it. “Band or DJ. Pick one."</p><p> </p><p>“For what?” he asked. Then added with a smirk when he thought of it,  “The funeral of this relationship?”</p><p> </p><p>He would’ve loved that, honestly. There’d be balloons and cake. Bellamy didn’t think he was much of a planner, but he’d hire someone to do it for him. If they needed someone to throw them a, ‘congrats this horror-show is over,’ party, he’d pay for it gladly.</p><p> </p><p>“No.” Murphy wrinkled his brow. “We aren’t breaking up.” </p><p> </p><p>His tone seemed to suggest such an event was impossible. Like it was some unthinkable possibility. As if the two of them were already married or something equally heinous like that. Bellamy saw the way Clarke picked up on it, too. Maybe they really would end things. That would be awesome. </p><p> </p><p>Clarke plowed right along, but there was a tenseness to her voice that hadn’t been there even before when they’d first come in. “Just pick one Bellamy.”</p><p> </p><p>He drained his drink, sucked at his teeth, and then handed down the verdict. “DJ.”</p><p> </p><p>“Ha!” Clarke exclaimed, victorious. She gloated to Murphy, “In your face. I told you no one has a wedding band anymore. So lame.”</p><p> </p><p>That made Bellamy practically choke on nothing. “<em>What </em>did you just say?”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke shrugged. “You can’t take it back, I already won.”</p><p> </p><p>“No,” he pointed a finger at her and then Murphy. The words made him feel too sick to even consider. Which was <em> only </em> because he hated the concept of marriage with such a burning passion. He swallowed. “You too aren’t…” In the end, he couldn’t even finish the sentence. </p><p> </p><p>“No!” Clarke laughed, and he felt instant relief. “Like, no, no, no, no. I mean—” she cut off because she was almost in hysterics. “We just started dating like three months ago. We are nowhere near that. Thank God.”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy knew he felt good about her declaration, but he turned to Murphy and saw his best friend was distraught. Which obviously meant that he had to be pissed at Clarke now. Great. But, Clarke was also a bro. Which meant that he had to defend her. Plus, he really, really hated marriage. And married people, for the most part. </p><p> </p><p>“Bands aren’t lame!” Murphy practically shouted. Roma yelled at him from behind the bar and he gave her a mocking salute before he turned back to the two of them. “And do you really have to say it like that, Clarke? Like marriage is the zombie gene that we’ve managed to become immune to?”<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>Clarke immediately shot back, “That’s because it is a zombie gene, and we’ve been lucky enough to avoid it.” She clinked her glass against Bellamy’s empty one and drank. </p><p> </p><p>The thing was, he knew how Murphy felt about marriage. A lot of people did, really. He thought Clarke did, too. But he wondered if she had thought Murphy would feel differently once they were actually together. Bellamy had a suspicion that wasn’t the case though. Not at all. </p><p> </p><p>“You don’t really feel that way though, right?” Murphy asked her, narrowing his eyes. “I mean, who thinks like that besides Bellamy?” He nodded at him. “No offense though.”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy shook his head. “None taken. It’s an unnatural and inhumane practice.”</p><p> </p><p>“See!” Murphy pointed at Bellamy. “You don’t really agree with that, do you?”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke shook her head. “Maybe not exactly, but…” She shrugged. “I don’t know, I’ve never really wanted that before.” Murphy gaped at her and she went on, “Look, you’re really putting me on the spot here. I’d rather not talk about this right now.”</p><p> </p><p>Oh, God. Another fight was coming. And there was no chance for an easy escape. Bellamy was doomed. </p><p> </p><p>Murphy waved his hands. “Right. Because who cares, right? We’re only talking about our futures.”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke burst out, “Why can’t you just live in the present and have fun?”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy wished he had a bucket of scotch in front of him. But even then, he knew it wouldn’t have been enough. He needed to get the hell out of there.</p><p> </p><p>“Me?” Murphy pointed to himself. “Not live in the present?” He scoffed. “Please, I am the King of Presentville.”</p><p> </p><p>She ran a hand over her face. “You literally plan everything. It is exhausting to think about you and your bullet journal.”</p><p> </p><p>“At least I care!” Murphy accused her. “And do you really have to attack my hobby like that?”</p><p> </p><p>“Organization is not a hobby,” she protested.</p><p> </p><p>Then, something occurred to the two of them. Like the fact that Bellamy was still with them. He really wished that they hadn’t noticed. He’d just been about to slink out of there and leave them with the tab. It served them right, he figured. </p><p> </p><p>“Bellamy,” Murphy said. “What is your opinion on bullet journals.”</p><p> </p><p>But he was already shaking his head.</p><p> </p><p>Clarke shot a glare at Murphy before she turned her attention to him. “Please. Settle this for us.”</p><p> </p><p>He couldn’t stop himself from replying even if he tried. “No fucking way.” He gestured between the two of them. “That’s what you said about the first fight. And the eighth. And the one that happened five minutes ago about band versus DJ. So, no, I will not be your damn referee for this relationship.”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy stood up and finished Murphy’s drink for good measure. God, he needed to teach him how to order better scotch. </p><p> </p><p>“Work out your shit,” he told them. “Now, if you need me, I’m gonna go be legen-wait for it-dary with Monty!” </p><p> </p><p>And then he stormed out and went to go find whatever sad hole Monty was currently hiding in since his break-up with Harper. </p>
<hr/><p>Monty was watching <em> Below Deck: Mediterranean </em> and taking a drink every time one of the guests on the yacht got drunk and made a scene like falling on their face or crashing a jet ski. Which was every episode. In short, he was on his way to wasted. The thought brought a fresh round of pain. He used to get wasted with <em> Harper</em>. </p><p> </p><p>This was the reason why he was sobbing into one of her old sweaters she must’ve forgotten about when she moved out almost three months ago. It wasn’t the position he would’ve loved to be found in by anyone. But especially not Bellamy. </p><p> </p><p>When he breezed into the apartment as if he lived there and went to the fridge for a beer, Monty did his best to pull himself together. Unfortunately, his best really wasn’t all so good recently. </p><p> </p><p>If it had, maybe Harper wouldn’t have left.</p><p> </p><p>This made him start sobbing. Loudly. Bellamy be damned. Once he calmed himself down a bit, he saw that Bellamy was staring at him. Not with disdain, per se. But something like confusion. Or even...Hell, he could barely even think it...<em>Worry</em>. If Monty didn’t know any better, he’d think that he was worried about him. It was a strange feeling, a bit of a ridiculous one. But Murphy was so involved in his tumultuous relationship with Clarke he didn’t have a lot of time for him. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, he’d take Bellamy’s concern. </p><p> </p><p>“What?” he asked because he honestly didn’t understand where his sudden change of heart about him came from.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ve decided,” Bellamy said.</p><p> </p><p>That made him frown. He historically wasn’t a fan of Bellamy’s decisions. Neither was Harper. That’s something they’d <em> shared</em>. But goddamnit, he had to get a grip. Harper was gone, and he needed to accept that. She was figuring out who she could be in Alaska, and he wanted the same for himself. He couldn’t believe he was thinking it, but maybe Bellamy could help show him some of the possibilities. </p><p> </p><p>“Decided what?” Monty spoke tentatively. “Because if this is about you redecorating the apartment again then Murphy already told you we don’t want another stormtrooper. We don’t care how much you spent on eBay.”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy waved his beer. “Not that. Though really, you should let me help out a little around here, I mean,” he cut a look over at a Hockey poster that was taped on the wall and wasn’t even framed. “Is this an apartment of two grown men or a college dorm room?”</p><p> </p><p>Monty shrugged. “It came from our college dorm room.”</p><p> </p><p>He sighed. “Of course, it did. But,” he went on, “that is not what I’ve decided. You are a very, very lucky man, you know that Monty?”</p><p> </p><p>Monty looked down at his current state of practically living on the couch in his sweats. There was a crusted bit of salsa on his t-shirt. “I am?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes!” he exclaimed and sat down in the chair next to the couch. “You are! You have done something men in your situation very rarely do. You <em> escaped </em>! You reached freedom! There is light at the end of your tunnel!”</p><p> </p><p>Monty rolled his eyes. “Look, if you’re only here to make fun of me for being upset about Harper, then you should leave now.”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy shook his head. “I’m not. I’m here to show you how to be awesome, to show you that there’s way more to life without Harper than you could’ve ever imagined. I’m here,” he straightened his tie, “to make you a bro. Not just any bro either, but <em> my </em>bro.”</p><p> </p><p>He thought it over for a moment, and despite his better judgment, he found he didn’t want to laugh in Bellamy’s face. He wanted to accept his help. Even if it was disastrous. Even if it didn’t end up amounting to anything. Because at least he was offering to help, and Monty knew that he really did need help right now. </p><p> </p><p>So, he stuck out his hand. Bellamy grinned and took it. “Deal.” Monty took a breath. “What do I do first?”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy stood up, took a long sip of his beer. He walked around the couch in a circle. Took another sip. Flicked his eyes up and down. Then clapped his hands together. </p><p> </p><p>“Monty, it is time…” He cleared his throat and raised his beer. “To suit up!”</p><p> </p><p>Monty thought suiting up would be a lot worse than it was. But as it turned out, Bellamy made it pretty easy. He had a suit guy, and within the week, Monty had four new suits. Once that was accomplished, they started doing things that (apparently) only worked after you got said suits. </p><p> </p><p>Bellamy explained how they’d use each other to score with women, hit up different bars and clubs, get him going to the gym regularly, and go out for regular Bro Nights Out. Halfway through the explanation of these activities, he almost quit it. But Bellamy was persistent that he had to capitalize on his newfound freedom. In the end, Monty was grateful he didn’t give up. </p><p> </p><p>He was even told about Tuxedo Night, which apparently had been an exclusive Murphy and Bellamy thing they did when he and Harper had a date, just the two of them. Monty wasn’t sure if splurging on a tux was what he <em> should’ve </em>been doing with his limited funds. But he was going through a life-changing event. He was figuring out who he was without Harper for the first time in seven years. If there was ever a time where he was allowed to be impulsive and stupid, then this was it. Plus, Tuxedo Night was really fucking fun, as it turned out. It came with martinis. </p><p> </p><p>“To getting laid,” Bellamy clinked his martini glass against Monty’s. They’d each already scored the numbers of two Broadway dancers at this exclusive club Bellamy’s job gave him access to. Monty paled a little at his comment but tried his best to put on a smug face, too. </p><p> </p><p>Since he was Bellamy, he picked up on it right away. “You are gonna get laid, aren’t you? The woman has horned-rim glasses, Monty. She’s way too hot for you. And, you heard here, she just found out her fiancé was cheating on her with her brother.” Bellamy clapped him on the shoulder. “You can’t ask for a better rebound.”</p><p> </p><p>Monty winced and he shook his head. “I get it, you’re still hung up on Harper, but that’s no excuse for you to sit around and not have fun while she’s out chasing those grizzly bears.”</p><p> </p><p>At the mention of Harper, he almost felt like breaking down. Bellamy ordered them scotch, stat. Lots of it. </p><p> </p><p>“It’s not that…” Monty took a drink. The scotch did help, he had to admit. “It’s…” He swallowed. “Harper’s the only person I’ve been with, you know?”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy took a second to register what he meant but once he did, Monty was grateful he didn’t laugh. Or at least, held it in for later when he wasn’t around. </p><p> </p><p>“Fair enough,” he said. The words shocked Monty a little but he kept going, “But here’s the thing, Harper’s great. She’s smoking hot and feisty and has a hell of an ass.”</p><p> </p><p>“Not helping,” Monty interrupted through gritted teeth. </p><p> </p><p>Bellamy nodded as if he expected him to say this. “But she left. You don’t owe her anything, alright? So...I know it sucks and it’s bullshit and not what you planned, but I really believe in you to get over her.”</p><p> </p><p>Monty hesitated before he told him, “Thanks, I guess. I never thought I would be here.”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy leaned back and took a long sip of scotch. “But you are,” he gestured to the club around them, “so enjoy it.”</p><p> </p><p>“I will,” Monty affirmed. </p><p> </p><p>“Great.” Bellamy grinned. “Now, are you gonna sit at home and eat salsa tomorrow night or are you gonna nail Natalie?”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m gonna nail—” he paused. “Wait, I thought her name was Naomi.”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy held up his drink to clink it against his own. “Naomi! Even better!”</p><p> </p><p>Monty cheers'd him and then drained his glass. “Let’s get more scotch,” he proposed.</p><p> </p><p>He pointed at him. “I love the way you’re thinking Green.”</p><p> </p><p>“And one other thing.” Slowly, to make the moment as dramatic as Monty dared while keeping a straight face, he raised his fist.</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy placed a hand over his chest before he raised his own and bumped their fists together. They both did the little explosion thing after and waved their fingers. It was awesome.</p><p> </p><p>And yes, he did sleep with Naomi, and it was fun and everything Bellamy told him he’d been missing out on during the last seven years. He and Bellamy fist-bumped again when he told him about it over a <em> Star Wars </em>marathon at his and Murphy’s place the next day. </p><p> </p><p>Monty couldn’t believe it. But he sure as hell felt it. For the first time since Harper left, he actually knew he was going to be okay. Maybe not right away, but someday, even if it sucked to let her go. He found himself thinking that it could be for the best. She followed her dreams, and now he was free to explore the city and all the parts in it he’d never known.</p>
<hr/><p>Clarke didn’t know what was wrong with her and Murphy. They worked great as friends. The sex was good. But she was starting to think that <em> they </em>weren’t good. As a couple. The thought made her feel awful. For him. For herself. Maybe mostly for Monty and Bellamy, who she knew were avoiding them. Probably because Monty was still heartbroken and Bellamy was...Bellamy. He was acting stranger than usual though, but she figured it was just because he was so resolutely against the idea of relationships. </p><p> </p><p>“I’m calling Bellamy to settle this,” she said when they were in the midst of another fight. </p><p> </p><p>“You can’t,” Murphy told her, all smug. “He’s out with Monty on a Bro Night Out.”</p><p> </p><p>She felt her face crumple with disappointment. “And they didn’t invite me? Assholes. I’m calling him to yell at him now.”</p><p> </p><p>Murphy rolled his eyes. “They didn’t invite you because you’re not single anymore.”</p><p> </p><p>“So what?” she demanded. “That means I can’t still be a bro? This is ridiculous.”</p><p> </p><p>“No,” he argued. “What’s ridiculous is that you’d rather do that stuff than actually hang out with me, your boyfriend.”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke gave him a fake cheery smile and replied, “Maybe I wouldn’t if my <em> boyfriend </em>wasn’t such a dick and only complained about his boss and the various ways in which he was going to ‘imaginarily’ quit his job.” Murphy scoffed but she ignored him. If he wanted to have this fight, then they’d have it. “I mean, seriously? What’s next for us? Imaginary sex?”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, that’s real honest coming from the person that has literally planned her boss’ murder!”</p><p> </p><p>She gasped. “That is so fucking low to bring up, even for you! I told you that after a really grueling day, okay? And if you tell anyone—”</p><p> </p><p>“Why?” he asked. “It’s not like you actually have the balls to leave the job, let alone actually kill your boss.”</p><p> </p><p>She huffed out, “The point of killing my boss is that I wouldn’t have to leave the job, stupid.”</p><p> </p><p>Murphy gestured between the two of them and looked at her as if she’d lost it. “Oh, right, because you’re clearly the genius in this relationship.” </p><p> </p><p>He rolled his eyes as dramatically as he could, which pissed her off even more. Now, he knew he was being a little shit just for the sake of it. She wished he’d come out and actually fight with her about what he really wanted to fight with her about. Instead, they kept getting into dumb little tiffs that went nowhere. When it was like this, she wondered why they bothered dating in the first place. Why she bothered dating <em> anyone </em>at all, actually. </p><p> </p><p>“Will you just tell me what spurred this whole thing on?” she asked. “Because,” her voice broke a little and she hated the look on his face as he heard it. “I don’t get what the hell is going on here, Murphy. And if you don’t either…”</p><p> </p><p>“Wait,” he said, coming closer. “Don’t end this, okay?”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke bit her lip before she got out, “Why shouldn’t we? I mean, it’s been three months of back and forth, up and down. What about the two of us and our relationship tells you that we should keep going? ‘Cause at this point...Maybe it’s better if we cut it loose while we can.”</p><p> </p><p>“Clarke,” Murphy took her hands in his own, and she still doubted them but did feel a bit better with the contact. “We spent so long pushing this thing off...I don’t wanna just give up because it’s not a freaking fairytale.”</p><p> </p><p>She thought about it and wasn’t above admitting he had a point. Since when did she give a relationship a chance? A real one. Not just telling herself she could get out whenever she wanted or decide to bail when things got too serious. Maybe it was gonna end in disaster, but she thought she owed it to herself and to Murphy to at least keep trying. </p><p> </p><p>Taking a breath, she said, “So what do we do? How do we try and make this less of a disaster?”</p><p> </p><p>Murphy seemed to contemplate it for a moment before he snapped his fingers together. He grinned. “I got it.”</p><p> </p><p>She raised a brow, tentative and unsure, but willing, and she was proud of herself for managing that. “Yeah?”</p><p> </p><p>“We have prohibited topics,” he told her. Like he’d solved all of the United States’ problems. Which made her think it was a load of bull. </p><p> </p><p>“What do you mean?” Clarke was ready to give up. On him, on the relationship. But something pulled her back for a moment longer. Enough for him to explain. </p><p> </p><p>“Well,” he sat down on her couch and she joined him. “We keep getting into fights because a bunch of similar topics come up, so if we promise to avoid them, then we won’t fight anymore. Maybe make that <em> as much</em>,” he added. </p><p> </p><p>The idea really didn’t resonate at first. But the longer she considered it, the more she convinced herself it made sense. It should’ve been her who thought of it, really. It was so easy. Of, course. They just had to completely keep certain ideas or topics of conversation off the table.</p><p> </p><p>“Okay.” She nodded. “That sounds…” She brightened when he looked a little sheepish. Just how she wanted him to be after a fight, really. But she assured him, “It sounds great. We’ll come up with a list, burn it, and then make sure to stop fighting like our names are Katie and Tom and we’re locked in some cultish battle.”</p><p> </p><p>“Exactly.” He smiled and she returned it. “It’ll be perfect.” He took out his phone and pulled up a fresh note. “So, what goes first on the list?”</p><p> </p><p>They looked at one another and said at the same time, “Marriage.”</p><p> </p><p>That should’ve been a sign. A big one. In red letters and block print with flashing lights. But neither one of them wanted to see it, so they didn’t. Clarke and Murphy made their list, though he did refuse to let her torch his phone after, and were satisfied. They really did believe their relationship could work this way. And for a while, it did. Maybe even would’ve lasted if it wasn’t for that first unavoidable topic. But sooner rather than later, it caught up to them. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>thank you for reading ❤︎</p><p>find me on tumblr (@animmortalist)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. I Can't Make Myself Care</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>hello, loves!! I put this fic on hiatus a little bit ago just because I didn't know when I'd next be able to update, and didn't want anyone to think I'd abandoned it. I'm still not, ofc. but I received a lovely prompt from @bellarkestitchdelena for bellarkefic4blm and so here's an update!</p><p>this one follows how Monty's doing in wake of restarting his life after Harper, an untimely return, and a bet. a Slap Bet, to be exact. </p><p>*chapter title is from 'Self Care' by Lily &amp; Madeleine*</p><p>thank you so much for the kind feedback. sending all my love and good thoughts your way 💞💞💞</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Everything was as normal as it could’ve been for Monty, hanging out at <em> Roma’s </em> with Bellamy, Clarke, and Murphy. For once, Clarke and Murphy weren’t in a fight, for which he was overwhelmingly thankful. Bellamy seemed lighter than he had in weeks. Though sometimes, he did get this weird look on his face when Murphy put an arm around Clarke or she rolled her eyes and affectionately called him an idiot. Monty knew better than to suspect anything real from that though. It was probably just too much scotch or his strange, shadowy corporation had failed to start another coup in a different country. </p><p> </p><p>Everything felt more at ease than it had since Harper left. He never thought he could get to this place, but miraculously, he had. Much faster than he thought possible. As for himself, he was pretty sure that he was starting to finally feel like a human again after she had ripped out his heart, took off with it to Alaska, and fed it to an Orca whale. </p><p> </p><p>Bellamy, despite everything in Monty that told him he might’ve finally lost it for thinking so, made the break-up survivable. Over the past two months, he had shown him there was hope for him, after all. That he didn’t have to let the end of him and Harper be the end of <em> him.  </em></p><p> </p><p>That said, Monty definitely wasn’t yet in a place where he even wanted to think about dating for real, but he <em> was </em>in a place where he could sleep with other people. Which, despite all his theatrics and ridiculous plays, Bellamy definitely knew how to help with. If him from a few months ago saw himself now, he’d probably be appalled. </p><p> </p><p>But he was starting to think that wasn’t such a bad thing. Maybe a surprising one, yes, but he allowed himself to consider that Bellamy had been right when he said Harper ending their relationship was a good thing. The thought still felt so foreign and a little wrong, but he thought that with enough time that it wouldn’t forever. That one day, he’d believe it as much as Bellamy did.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, Monty,” Bellamy said, nodding to a woman with long braids and a figure that could cut glass.</p><p> </p><p>Monty let out a quiet, low whistle. </p><p> </p><p>Clarke looked over and added, “Damn.” Her eyes went to Monty, with no small amount of glee. “You think you’re up for going for them?”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy answered, “Of course he is."</p><p> </p><p>Murphy rolled his eyes. “Must you two?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes,” Monty supplied, grinning. He clinked his glass against Bellamy’s. “We must, indeed.”</p><p> </p><p>With that, he got up from the table and went to work the magic Bellamy had been teaching him these last couple of months. </p><p> </p><p>It was going well. Her name was Danielle and she was in her second year at a grad program for chemical engineering at NYU. She laughed at his jokes, which, he knew, still were more than slightly corny. But she was brilliant, her mouth and mind as fast as lightning. Monty was shocked at how easy it was to talk to her. Sure, he’d been with people besides Harper now, and that did give him some confidence, but usually, it took him a bit to warm up to someone new. He figured the feeling was pain leftover from his failed engagement. </p><p> </p><p>For the first time, Monty didn’t compare the new person he was talking to to Harper. He didn’t even think to do it. </p><p> </p><p>Danielle cracked a joke and was triumphant in making him laugh an embarrassing amount at it. He thought of Harper, quickly, fleetingly. Yeah, she was funny, too. Just as fast as it came though, he let it go. And he realized that he really was getting over her.</p><p> </p><p>That he was going to be okay. </p><p> </p><p>Monty asked for Danielle’s number and she teased him for not asking sooner, but gave it to him regardless. She placed a hand on his arm and followed her friends out of the bar. He smiled to himself and raised his glass to the booth where the others still sat. Maybe getting over Harper wasn’t going to be as painful as he thought. </p><p> </p><p>And then the crowd shifted a little, and he saw her, standing in the doorway. Eyes filled with a question only he could answer. An expression that he immediately recognized as her brave face. The one she put on when her mom died in college and she didn’t want anyone to know just how much she was hurting. Monty swallowed thickly. He wanted to look away. He should’ve looked away. He didn’t though. </p><p> </p><p>Because standing a few feet away from him, as if she’d never left, the only difference the length of her hair, was the girl he thought he was gonna spend the rest of his life with. </p><p> </p><p>He looked over at their booth. Clarke jutted out her chin, Murphy sucked on his teeth, and Bellamy rolled his eyes at the ceiling. Yeah, that was about right. </p><p> </p><p>Before Monty even knew what he was doing, his feet were carrying him to the entrance of the bar, where Harper still was lingering. Like she didn’t know if she was even allowed inside anymore. Monty wasn’t sure if he wanted her to be. </p><p> </p><p>All at once, the emotions he’d worked so hard all summer to restrain came roaring back, clouding his judgment and his mind and making him feel like his heart was being gnawed on by that whale all over again. It didn’t matter how much time had passed. The ways Bellamy had helped him see the positive in all of this. How Murphy told him he was picking him in the ‘divorce’. None of that mattered when Harper was here again, making him confront the lies he’d been telling himself. Seriously, how did he even begin to think he was over her? Well, he knew he certainly wasn’t even close, now that she was back. For who knew what reason. </p><p> </p><p>Not even pausing, he started to breeze past Harper without a word. She didn’t have it though, almost reaching out to stop him but drawing her hand back at the last second.</p><p> </p><p>“Monty—” she pleaded. </p><p> </p><p>He felt her desperation like it was his own. Some part of him, one that he hated, in that moment, wanted to listen to her. Wanted to hear what her explanation was—why she had come back. What she wanted. And yes, embarrassingly so, there was a desire to know if she wanted <em> him </em>back. Monty couldn’t let that part win though. He’d done too much damn work to pull himself back together. Whether or not she wanted it to happen, their break-up had almost ruined him. He couldn’t give her the chance to do it all over again. </p><p> </p><p>“No,” he got out, shocked by how he kept his voice even, but also by the coldness of it. How little he appeared to care, even though he knew it was the furthest thing from the truth. </p><p> </p><p>“No fucking way,” he said. </p><p> </p><p>And then he walked out the door without bothering to look back, already seeing the image of Harper’s lip quivering and eyes filling with tears and trying and trying to clear her throat in vain in his mind. </p><p> </p><p>He forced himself to keep going though, because he knew if he hesitated even a little, he’d stop. And forgive her. And love her. And then give her the chance to destroy him all over again. </p>
<hr/><p>In the end, Murphy won the battle against Bellamy to go find Monty and talk shit out. Though he was sort of shocked he even had to fight him for it. Emotions weren’t exactly his thing, and Monty was definitely feeling a whole lot of them at that moment. But while he and Clarke had been having fun, adding more and more things to their last of topics to avoid, Bellamy and Monty really had gotten closer than he ever thought possible.</p><p> </p><p>Maybe he was a little jealous. Maybe.</p><p> </p><p>But Clarke was worth it, he reminded himself. More than worth it. Even though they did have to add discussing her mom to the list this morning after he tried to ask her why she’d snapped a plate in half when her mom sent her a pen for her birthday. Despite the fact that she’d told them all it was the best present ever with a terrifying smile on her face.</p><p> </p><p>But really, who needed to talk about their parents? Not them, no way. In fact, he was relieved by the development. Made things much easier for him. So what if she hardly ever opened up about her dad and he did the same? Talking about dead parents was overrated.</p><p> </p><p>He shook his head, clearing it as he entered the apartment. Monty was on the couch, staring at a blank TV. Awesome. </p><p> </p><p>Murphy sighed and took the seat beside him. </p><p> </p><p>“So, that was horrendous.”</p><p> </p><p>Monty shot him a glare.</p><p> </p><p>He nodded. “Well, I mean, her haircut makes her look, like, almost ugly, so you got that going for you.”</p><p> </p><p>Another glare. Yeah, he knew he was lying. Not even a bad haircut could make Harper look ugly, and they both knew it. </p><p> </p><p>“Look, I get it if you don’t want to talk about it. But I had to play Bellamy in three rounds of rock-paper-scissors to be the one to come and talk to you so...I think it could help. You letting out some of the rage or pain or whatever.” </p><p> </p><p>Ever-so-casually, he slid a box of tissues across the coffee table so they were directly in front of Monty.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not gonna cry. I am not fragile. I am not emotional. I am fucking fine,” Monty bursted out, sounding more pissed than sad, which Murphy didn’t get.</p><p> </p><p>But given that Harper had just appeared like a fucking mirage after being gone for nearly three months, he decided whatever reaction Monty was having had to be perfectly acceptable. Still, he really thought this conversation was going to go differently. </p><p> </p><p>If only because Monty openly sobbed into his falafel three weeks ago and freaked out some tourists while he said, “Harper loves falafel. I bet she loves it more than she ever loved me.”</p><p> </p><p>But, he supposed Bellamy really could impact people, when he wanted. Maybe more than was really good for them. Or, was good for Murphy, since he was the one who now had to deal with Monty. Which, he guessed, was on him, since he did fight Bellamy for the task. </p><p> </p><p>“How many times did you practice saying that in the mirror?” Murphy asked before he could stop himself.</p><p> </p><p>Monty rolled his eyes and for a moment he figured they’d continue ignoring the Harper-shaped elephant in their apartment, but then he shook his head and heaved a sigh. </p><p> </p><p>“I thought she might never come back,” he got out. </p><p> </p><p>He grimaced before going on, “I know that was stupid and that the fellowship would end eventually. But I guess, I figured I had <em> months </em>left. And even then, I thought she might not tell us she came back. That maybe in a year from now, I’d be walking down the street with someone new, and I’d see her, and we’d do that awkward pleasantries thing. And then that would be it.” </p><p> </p><p>He pressed his palms to his eyes and then looked at Murphy. “The fuck am I gonna do?”</p><p> </p><p>Murphy chose his reply carefully. “I don’t know...I mean, you were pretty clear about your feelings in the bar. Maybe she’ll take that as a sign.”</p><p> </p><p>Monty gave him an unimpressed look but said nothing. </p><p> </p><p>“You’re right,” Murphy admitted. “It’s Harper. I wouldn’t be surprised if she wasn’t currently scaling up the fire escape.” </p><p> </p><p>As soon as it occurred to him, his eyes went wide and he got up from the couch to check out the window. No sign of her. </p><p> </p><p>“All clear,” he told Monty, who seemed a little disappointed. </p><p> </p><p>He sat back down and shook his head. Murphy didn’t know what to say that would actually make him feel any better, but he wanted to try.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s gonna be alright, Monty. Is this how you wanted things to go down in your perfect fantasy? No. But, you were hitting on a hot girl, and, to quote Bellamy, ‘at least he was in a suit, <em> Murphy </em>,’ so, I know it sucks shit, but really, it was probably the best it could possibly be, given that it’s only been a summer.”</p><p> </p><p>Monty was quiet for a while. But then he turned to him and asked, “Bellamy really said that?”</p><p> </p><p>Murphy snorted and nodded.</p><p> </p><p>Monty laughed. “Fucking hell. Who have I become?”</p><p> </p><p>He shrugged. “Someone who did what they had to in order to survive their heart being broken.”</p><p> </p><p>“You’re right,” Monty allowed. “And I...I want you all to know, if you want to see her or hang out with her, that’s okay with me. But I’m gonna keep my distance.”</p><p> </p><p>“Please,” Murphy scoffed. “I told you already I was picking you in the divorce. I can’t speak for the traitors who are Bellamy and Clarke, but me? I’m Team Monty.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m surprised you haven’t made t-shirts yet,” he replied, grinning, thankfully. </p><p> </p><p>“Oh, I can make you a ‘Team Monty’ t-shirt,” Murphy said. “You want one? I’ll make it happen. I’ve got glitter glue, too, and I’m not afraid to use it.”</p><p> </p><p>“Very funny.” Monty coughed. “But, thanks. I mean it.”</p><p> </p><p>Murphy nodded and then tilted his head toward the TV. “<em>Star Wars</em>?”</p><p> </p><p>Monty leaned back against the couch and shrugged out of the jacket to his suit, loosening his tie, too. “Fuck yeah.”</p><p> </p><p>It definitely didn’t clear everything going on in Monty’s head, not that Murphy believed any one conversation could do that. But it helped, he could tell that it did. Maybe he wasn’t the type of friend who could get him laid to try to forget about Harper like Bellamy, or take him out to a paintball range to channel out his anger like Clarke, but he could watch his favorite movie with him and listen and try to convince him that everything really was gonna be okay. </p><p> </p><p>Murphy liked to think he was a good friend, though he knew sometimes he failed pretty epically at it. Monty needed him though. So, he cracked jokes and got the crazy expensive takeout from the Polish place down the street and kept the beers flowing. And eventually, Monty laughed at the movie, and Murphy thought that his friend was gonna be just fine. With or without the dream girl.</p><p> </p><p>Selfishly, he was lucky that that wasn’t him though. That he didn’t have to think about starting over. Not when he felt so unbelievably good about him and Clarke. They were gonna make it, he was sure.</p>
<hr/><p>About two weeks after Harper came back, with Clarke and Bellamy balancing time between consoling her and listening to Monty shit-talk her, he and Clarke were waiting on Monty and Murphy in <em> Roma’s. </em>Which was decidedly an anti-Harper zone. </p><p> </p><p>“I think I’m gonna have to break up with Murphy,” Clarke said, shaking her head.</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy nearly choked on his scotch. She frowned and he did his best to regain his composure and hide the glee that threatened to burst out of him. Why did that make him <em> happy </em> ? He should’ve been miserable because Murphy was going to be <em> destroyed </em>. And he probably would even be less inclined to wear a suit than he already was. No, this was horrible news. And yet, it didn’t stop the feeling. He pushed it away as much as he could, but it didn’t last long when Clarke expanded upon that.</p><p> </p><p>“What?” he asked, voice as flat as he could manage given the circumstances. </p><p> </p><p>Clarke still had a weird expression on her face, like she wanted to ask him what was wrong with him, but she went on, “I don’t know...I just feel like we’re too different.” She rolled her eyes and then added, “No that’s not it. Maybe too similar?” She put her head in her hands. “Tell me what to do.”</p><p> </p><p>“Um—” he started.</p><p> </p><p>“No, wait,” she held up a hand. “I shouldn’t do it, right? I mean, if I break things off with him, I might as well be signing a permanent lease in Spinsterville.” </p><p> </p><p>She swallowed, and then waved a hand dismissively. “But since when do I care about that? I’d be the best spinster ever. Well, at least, the hottest one. But I really can’t even picture the face of the woman who does my eyebrows. The frown she’ll make. She was so <em> proud </em> of me. Not to mention, I’ll have a reason to cancel my <em> other </em> kind of wax, and then she’ll really judge.” </p><p> </p><p>She took a breath. “Okay, so I won’t break up with him. I will,” she grimaced, “commit.”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy didn’t have a chance to add anything before she told him, “Oh, forget it. The face you just made! God. You’re so right. Me? Commit? Am I <em> crazy </em>? I have to end things with him. The man must be dumped.” </p><p> </p><p>She nodded, but just as quickly, her resolve crumbled. “Fuck. Bellamy, please, what do I do?”</p><p> </p><p>The kind of person he thought he was, not that he tried to contemplate that all too much, would’ve backed up Murphy. He knew Murphy would’ve done it for him. If Bellamy was ever stupid enough to find himself in such a position, which, he wasn’t and hopefully never would be. The list of terrible shit he did and allowed was an extensive one, but being a bad friend? That wasn’t usually one he tried to aim for since it went directly against much of the moral code he’d constructed for himself. He wanted to back up Murphy, wanted to tell Clarke that she shouldn’t end things with him. Something held him back. </p><p> </p><p>A disturbing and upsetting something, at that. He didn’t let it take complete root in his mind because he knew that if he did, he’d never get rid of it. It still kept him from saying the words he knew he should’ve though. Instead, he took the easiest way out he could see. </p><p> </p><p>“I really doubt I’m the person you want to ask,” he finally forced out, surprising himself with the amount of strength it took. </p><p> </p><p>At least that wasn’t an entire lie. </p><p> </p><p>She huffed. “I’m serious, help me out here.” She gestured between them. “One bro to another.” And then her face softened a little and she asked, “Please? I’m desperate here, if you couldn’t already tell.”</p><p> </p><p>He thought about it, for a second. Telling her to end things with Murphy. Truly and wholly wanted to say it. To be free of yet another couple, he told himself. That had to have been the one and only reason. Anything else...He couldn’t let that happen or exist or even be even a little bit on his face because he knew Clarke would’ve picked up on it and then everything would’ve been fucked forever. </p><p> </p><p>So, he tipped back his scotch, took a long sip, and then said, “Clarke, you’re happy with Murphy, right?</p><p> </p><p>Maybe he was asking her for himself as much as for her. Which was beyond terrifying. </p><p> </p><p>“Yeah,” she replied, easy. “Yes, I am, honestly...I can’t remember the last time I was.” No hint of a lie.</p><p> </p><p>It made the next part simpler for him, though later he did find himself wishing it hadn’t been. Which, again. Terrifying. </p><p> </p><p>He shrugged. “Then that’s your answer. Yeah, it’s Murphy, but really, he’d do whatever you wanted to be with you, so...Relax.” He cheersed his glass against hers. “Now drink up, ‘cause Murphy and Monty just walked in.”</p><p> </p><p>She did as he said, and he almost forgot the whole conversation even happened. If it wasn’t for the damn sweaty itchiness of his palms. </p><p> </p><p>“So,” Monty looked between Bellamy and Clarke. “What were you guys talking about that made Bellamy look so uncomfortable when we walked in?”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke paled and stuttered out, “Nothing!”</p><p> </p><p>Way to go for casual, he thought.</p><p> </p><p>Murphy narrowed his eyes. “Seriously?’</p><p> </p><p>Clarke swallowed and blinked rapidly, glancing at Bellamy for help.</p><p> </p><p>“It was nothing,” he covered. While his appearance might’ve given him away, as least, unlike Clarke, he was capable of lying with ease. “Was telling Clarke about a hook-up.” He shrugged. “She threatened me with intense violence if I don’t start treating women better.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yep,” she said, way too loud and shuddered dramatically. “It was...Vile.”</p><p> </p><p>God help them.</p><p> </p><p>“I do not believe you for one second, babe,” Murphy told her, smirking a little. “So, you better just tell us.”</p><p> </p><p>“It was seriously nothing,” Bellamy replied. </p><p> </p><p>Monty considered this and looked at Murphy. “Definitely lying. Your prognosis?”</p><p> </p><p>Murphy grinned. “One bet.”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy rolled his eyes. “I’m not making another bet with you over a conversation that definitely happened and you’re just too paranoid to think otherwise.”</p><p> </p><p>“Then what’s the harm in making the bet?” Monty asked, something sinister brewing in his eyes. He didn’t like that look one bit. It was too...Cheerful. Especially for him since Harper came back. “One harmless, little bet,” he continued. </p><p> </p><p>Clarke gave him this panicked look. All desperation. Fuck him.</p><p> </p><p>“Fine,” he said. “I will make your stupid bet. What are the terms?”</p><p> </p><p>“Five slaps,” Monty responded, far too quickly. He’d been just waiting to pounce, Bellamy knew it. How long he’d been planning this, he didn’t want to know.</p><p> </p><p>“That’s too many,” Clarke said.</p><p> </p><p>Murphy shook his head. “It is the perfect amount. Not too few, not one more than necessary.”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy rolled his eyes. “Slaps, seriously? Are we <em> Real Housewives </em> now? Did you change your name to Theresa and get fake eyelash extensions recently?”</p><p> </p><p>Monty just grinned. “Five slaps. Whenever I want. Any time, any place. Warning is a nicety, but definitely not required.”</p><p> </p><p>He might’ve gulped. “I’m not afraid of you. Or your slaps.”</p><p> </p><p>“You should be,” Murphy said. “Like, <em> very afraid </em>.”</p><p> </p><p>He was. A little. </p><p> </p><p>He wasn’t about to let anyone else see that though. Sure, it might’ve been beyond stupid risking this. But he really, really didn’t want to see the look on Murphy’s face if he ever found out he’d talked Clarke away from tossing a bottle-rocket at his heart. As much as he didn’t want to think about it, he also didn’t want to put Clarke in that position either. She told him she was happy. And Murphy was happy. Bellamy wanted, perhaps in a way that made him want to scoff at himself, it to stay that way for both of them. </p><p> </p><p>“Fine,” he grumbled out. His fate probably sealed. Whatever. “What’s the bet then?” </p><p> </p><p>Murphy raised his brows at Monty, who nodded.</p><p> </p><p>Without bothering to fill him and Clarke in, Murphy turned around and asked the people in the booth behind them, “Excuse me? Was the man in this booth,” he shot a thumb at Bellamy, “discussing some very disgusting, bordering-on self-loathing relations with a young woman clearly lacking in self esteem and a father figure?”</p><p> </p><p>To her credit, the chick with the mohawk just stared at Murphy as if he had a second head. But the guy beside her shook his head which sent a million curses tumbling through his head. </p><p> </p><p>“Nope,” the dude said. At least he didn’t elaborate. </p><p> </p><p>Clarke mouthed a silent, ‘fuck,’ which, thankfully, Monty and Murphy were too busy grinning at one another to notice. </p><p> </p><p>Murphy told him, “So, you either tell us about your secret hot-topic, or…”</p><p> </p><p>“Lose,” Monty finished, dragging out the word. </p><p> </p><p>Bellamy glared at them. “No.” He leaned back in the booth. “That doesn’t even count as a real bet.” </p><p> </p><p>He was gonna regret this, he just knew it. </p><p> </p><p>“Bet is lost!” Murphy practically shouted.</p><p> </p><p>Monty rubbed his hands together and blew out a puff of air onto one palm. “I’m claiming my first one now, if only so you can live in fear of what it’ll be like when the next four come.”</p><p> </p><p>The selfish, self-serving, asshole survivor in Bellamy told him to cut Clarke loose. To turn her in. Anything to get him out of this. Out of five fucking bitch slaps from Monty’s weapon of a hand. But he glanced over at her and he sensed that she’d accepted he was gonna save his ass. Maybe even was giving him permission, if the look in her eyes was any indication. </p><p> </p><p>Fuck. </p><p> </p><p>“Sorry.” He smirked. “I don’t kiss and tell. Unless it was with Harper because you just know she likes it dir—”</p><p> </p><p>He didn’t get to finish that sentence, because Monty slapped him so hard across the face he thought he passed out for a second.</p><p> </p><p>“Four more!” Murphy cheered. </p><p> </p><p>Monty sipped from his beer. “You know, before we came in, I was feeling kind of shitty.” He brightened. “Now, I feel...wait for it...Awesome.” He turned to Bellamy. “How do you feel?”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy had regained consciousness, and was still holding his cheek in his hand. With momentous strength, he summoned, “Screw. You.”</p><p> </p><p>Murphy sighed, content. <em> Enjoy it, you fucker</em>. </p><p> </p><p>“I’ll get the next round.” Murphy’s eyes lit up. “Bellamy, extra ice?”</p><p> </p><p>He flipped him off, but that didn’t damper his grin. Then Monty got up and went to the bathroom, reaching out and patting Bellamy on the shoulder before he went. And yeah, he flinched. </p><p> </p><p>As soon as he was gone though, Clarke slid out of her seat and into the one beside him. “Bellamy—” she started.</p><p> </p><p>He snorted. “Please, that was nothing. I’m fine.”</p><p> </p><p>It was, of course, apparent that he was not, in fact, fine, but she let him have it. </p><p> </p><p>She paused and he didn’t know if she would keep going, but then, she did. </p><p> </p><p>“Thank you,” she said. </p><p> </p><p>Then she kissed him on the cheek, and just as fast, moved back to her previous seat. He barely had time to recover before Murphy came over and set their drinks down, kissing Clarke quickly before sitting down. Bellamy swallowed and shook his head. This was fine, really. This was...How it was meant to be.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
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